The Mike and Jessica Chronicles
by Dumbledoor
Summary: Takes place during Eclipse. A little look at Mike and Jessica's unstable relationship. NON-CANON, Mild swearing. Just a teeny bit.
1. Plays Pretty For Baby

**Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. "Plays Pretty For Baby" belongs to Anthony Green (I'm not sure which band: Zolof the Rock and Roll Destroyer or Saosin).**

* * *

**Mike Newton**

_I feel her smooth skin slightly  
Brush against the back side of my arm_

"Hey Mike," Jessica stood on her toes so her lips could give mine a light press.

Returning the affection, I put my arm around her shoulders. Her strawberry scented perfume felt tingly through my nostrils.

"Hi Jessica," I nodded, too enthusiastically to be genuinely cheerful. Jessica noticed, but she just rolled her eyes and looked away.

I heard her groan in annoyance. Not following her gaze, she nudged me lightly in the arm to point me in the direction.

What I saw made me scowl. Edward Cullen and Isabella Swan. The tall, pale boy had Bella's all too pretty face in his hands, as if it were the finest piece of china. Maybe it was, for Isabella Swan surely was a treasure. Why couldn't I make her blush like that? As if Cullen didn't already have everything in the world. Why did he have to have the prettiest girl in school? Surely he'll just dump her and move on to college women...

For months, I've been mustering up the courage to ask Bella out. But I asked her to the dance; she said no. I asked her to a movie; she said no as well. What is so wrong with saying "yes" to Mike Newton?

"Mike?" Jessica's bubbly voice broke my thoughts.

"Yes?" She was looking at me as if I've missed the whole point. I just gave her a confused expression.

She cleared her throat. "It's time for class."

"Oh." Encircling her waist with my arm, I led us to our classroom. We were quiet on the way, and for that I was thankful. I mean, Jessica Stanley is not known to keeping her mouth shut. I wonder what's on her mind?

_I need the song started over  
Your crying made me miss my favorite part_

How can I be thinking these fantasies?

Here I was, kissing my girlfriend, with her back against the lockers nonetheless, wishing I had another girl in my arms. A certain wide eyed, pale skinned beauty.

I was breathing unevenly, while Jessica kept roughly kissing my neck. I didn't know she was so fierce. I liked it. I only wish it was Bella.

"Mike!" Jessica's sharp voice scolded. What did I do wrong?

She gave me a dirty look. "You're not doing anything! I'm doing all the making out here."

I blinked. Oh, yeah, I was supposed to be kissing my girlfriend.

I immediately pushed her further into the lockers, making her gasp at my forcefulness. I knew she liked it too.

Smashing my lips on to hers, I pretended it was Bella who was between me and the wall. She put her arms around my neck, while I kept my grasp on her hips tightly secure.

_Much better_, my mind told me. Any minute now, the bell would ring, separating us apart, just like always.

_I hear the exclamation point_

"Mike, what's going on with you?" Jessica's concern surprised me. Not that she's indifferent, but she's usually so caught up in herself to notice anything that has to do with me.

I gave her my best serious impression. "Nothing, Jessica, why'd you ask?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. You seem so down lately." She flipped the channel to the food network. When she saw what was on, she changed it to something else.

"Hey, Emeril's good," I didn't tell her I liked to watch Emeril because Bella liked that show, but I wasn't lying. I wouldn't do that.

Jessica looked at me sideways, but continued to watch "Material Girls". I guess that will do for the afternoon.

Halfway through the rather dull movie, Jessica leaned down my chest. I felt it rather suffocated me, and I politely told her to "please remove your head from my body, because it's rather uncomfortable." She looked hurt for a moment, but complied.

"Mike?"

"Yes?"

After a pause, she put the TV on mute. "This isn't working."

"What isn't working?" Of course I was perfectly aware of what wasn't working. Our relationship, just like the movie, was boring and pointless. Our breaking up was inevitable.

But that didn't stop me from feeling surprise and shock by what Jessica said. Surely I wasn't that bad of a boyfriend? Didn't she tell me herself, after our first kiss, that I was the best boyfriend to walk in this world?

No. She was probably lying that time. I don't think I'm the best boyfriend in the world.

Jessica, who was still looking at the soundless picture, smiled, as if she knew what I was thinking.

"Me and you," her voice broke for just a moment, showing her vulnerability to emotion. "You know, I see it in your eyes, the way you'd wish there was something more to us. I _really_ like you, Mike, but we can't make this work."

I should have been rejoicing because of my freedom, should have been unaffected at least. But all of a sudden, the only thing I wanted to do was cry in sheer emptiness and despair. My mind was in a crazy fuzz, and all I could do was bite my tongue while Jessica told me of her unhappiness and the want for something greater...

"What?" I asked. I couldn't believe this. "You found someone?"

She was startled by my angry tone, but she cleared her throat and spoke again.

"I haven't found someone," she was trying to be vague, but her excitement on the subject gave her away, "but there is an _idea_ of someone..."

I shook my head. "Why do I feel like I've heard that from one of the chick flicks you made me watch?"

"Ugh!" Her composed face became angry and flustered. "You're so obnoxious! I'm trying to break up with you in a mature way, but I can see that's not going to happen."

Her annoyed face, as if I was being childish, made it easier to walk away from her. I stood up from the couch, grabbed my jacket, and stormed out the Stanley residence.

_  
Her eyes are so there...  
They're greener_

Miserable.

Here I was, staring at a picture of Jessica and me, taken the day of last year's prom. We looked so—was happy the right word?

I examined it again. I was wearing a pinstriped tux, and she'd been wearing a long, flowing tan dress. We were both holding hands, and her head was tilted toward me, as if trying to reach closer. We looked... awkward.

Groaning internally, I placed the picture back on my desk. This was not how I was supposed to feel. Why did I want to crawl in a corner, only to hug my knees to my chest and blubber like a baby?

I missed Jessica. She was always there—though this fact was at times annoying—so she'd check up on how I was doing, and what exactly I was doing. True, she could get talkative, but her face lights up with the littlest gossip. Making her happy could never be easier.

"Why!" I cried to my window, overlooking... well, some trees.

_Lay back  
The song is almost over  
I tried to hear you out but I dozed off_

The next day was absolutely heart wrenching.

Who was I to know that Jessica was still crushing on Edward Cullen?

"Jessica," I confronted her after school, "What the hell? You're trying to get with _Cullen_?"

Her hushed tone took me by surprise. "There's no point in trying now. He's practically _married_ to Bella."

"Wha—" I saw her face, and immediately choked back my response. Jessica, realizing what happened, made a move to turn away.

I took her arm gently. "Hey, hey," my voice was gentle, a sound I reserved for my close friends. "Why're you crying? What happened?"

When she looked at me in disbelief, I smacked my forehead. Of course I knew what happened: Cullen rejected Jessica for the _millionth _time.

Jessica looked so hurt. Usually, nothing really gets to her. She'd joke about everything that bothered her. Where was that Jessica? Where was my Jessica?

Thinking it chivalrous, I tried keeping the mood light. "Well, there goes my chance with Bella." It wasn't hard putting on a fake sad tone, because I realized how true my statement was.

She laughed bitterly. "I know what you're trying to do, Mike," then she smiled. "You're trying to make me feel better. Though it won't work, I appreciate it."

"I'm just trying to be a good friend," I admitted.

We both heard a low hum of a car's engine. Cullen's Volvo was leaving the school, giving Bella a ride to school no doubt.

"Wanna get outta here?" Jessica motioned for me to go to her car.

"With you?" Was she saying what I think she's saying? I followed her, though I had a feeling she was kidding.

She rolled her eyes and opened the car. "Of course with me, silly." Then her tone changed to wariness. "Unless you don't want to."

I got into the passenger seat. "No, no. I want to."

After turning her ignition, she leaned on me and gave me a kiss.

"Good," she said, and sped away.

_I need the song started over  
Your crying made me miss my favorite part_

"So, what'll it be?" Jessica lazily asked, crossing and uncrossing our fingers together.

"I dunno," I couldn't believe we were back to this. "Emeril?"

"Mike," she gave me a pointed look, and I backed down.

Sighing, I took her shoulders and kissed her fully. She responded eagerly, sitting on my lap and putting her arms around my neck. Though it was quite uncomfortable, what with the added weight and the human noose, I enjoyed every single minute of out kissing session.

Her lips were demanding, and it felt like she was devouring me whole. It actually felt like she wanted this.

When we pulled away, breaths ragged, I smiled.

"Oh, look at the time," she glanced at the clock: eight in the evening. "Maybe you should go."

She had a glazed look in her eyes. They looked... guilty? What would she feel guilty about?

_Rachael, it's times like this I wonder  
_

We were standing, she and I. We were standing in the pouring rain, facing each other. Not doing anything, just staring into each other's eyes, hoping that alone would keep us warm. But it didn't. It only sent my body into paroxysms of coughs.

"Is this your idea of romantic?" I finally asked, when the splats of water against my head were getting too monotonous for my ears.

She shrugged, as if she wasn't standing in the freezing wet, drenched from head to toe. "Ever heard of a kiss in the rain?"

"To be honest? No." Who wants to kiss while he's sneezing and possibly getting pneumonia?

"Grr!" Jessica stomped her foot on the pavement, creating a splash. "Just shut up and kiss me!"

So I did what the other guy from the movie did: I picked her up, letting her legs go around my waist, and let her weight put the pressure on our mouths.

The kiss was mind blowing. The way she tilted her head, so our lips could completely meet at every point, every curve, was amazing. It was one of the sexiest things I've ever done.

But why did I start thinking of Bella again?

Even when Jessica's hands were on my face, caressing them lovingly, I wished she was Bella.

This made me angry at myself. I kissed Jessica again, with more force than necessary, causing her to moan. In pleasure or in pain, I didn't ask.

Finding this situation useless in averting my mind from Bella, I carried Jessica inside. How does one get Bella Swan out of his head?

_You're eyes are so there...  
They're meaner_

On our way to English, Jessica and I spotted them. Edward Cullen and Bella Swan. I put my arm around her waist firmly, just like _he_ did to _her_. Jessica sighed.

"This is never going to stop, is it?" Her voice was lifeless, no hope at all. Did she mean Cullen and Bella's relationship? Her fixation on_ him_? Mine on _her_?

There were many things that could go with her declaration, but I didn't ask further. Whatever she was referring to, I knew it only mean one thing: we were stuck together.

"Just face it, Jess," I said. We were looking at the couple with longing, wishing the world would tilt its axis and give us our wants.


	2. Mexican Wine

**Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. "Mexican Wine" belongs to Fountains of Wayne.  
**

* * *

**Jessica Stanley**

_Because the sun still shines in the summertime  
I'll be yours if you'll be mine_

There she was again, getting her heart in a frenzy by the most gorgeous guy in the world. Seriously, Edward Cullen was touching Bella just a tad bit too much! No wonder the girl blushes all the time. I wonder how far they've gone...

What I would give to have him support me by the waist, wherever I go... Feel his sure to be warm lips kiss mine hungrily, with as much force as his sculpted muscles would allow... Dear god, if only every man was an Edward Cullen!

I sighed, escaping my vivid dreams of his pale skin, and those eyes, all the while resenting Bella Swan for ever coming to Forks. Mike Newton, my on and off boyfriend, sat beside me, watching my every move. But I was neither shallow nor stupid. I wasn't the queen of gossip for nothing. If anyone was to know who someone likes in Forks High, I would be the first one.

And right now, my boyfriend was drooling over Bella Swan, the luckiest girl on the planet. For some reason, the handsomest guy on the planet saw something special in her. I have not figured out her secret. She was reserved and excessively thoughtful; some things that did not describe me.

The school bell rang, signaling the beginning of classes. Another boring Monday, with the occasional downpour, as expected of this small town. But, I've lived here since birth, and have grown used to the gloomy surroundings, and the many shades of green.

Mike and I have also known each other since childhood. So it was no surprise to our mothers when we started dating.

Jumping out of my car, I grabbed my books from the back and hurried toward the building.

"Jess!" Mike called, having just got out, and pulled his hood up.

"Hurry!" I yelled over the accumulating rain. I'd forgotten my jacket, and my curly hair, now wet, was sure to frizz even more. "Great," I muttered.

He saw this, and immediately shrugged off his coat. I was surprised by his chivalry, but before I could protest—which I was not about to do—he placed them on my shoulders, gathering my hair quickly so it'd be hidden under the hood.

"Thanks," he smiled at the sincerity of my voice, and led me inside. Before we entered the classroom, I pulled his face down and kissed him. Short and sweet, just like how our relationship was being throughout out whole charade.

When I pulled back, he gave me a quick hug. His rugby shirt was drenched on the shoulders, and his face was a bit sticky to where the gel dripped down from his hair.

"Ms. Stanley! Mr. Newton! Cut that out!" Coach Clapp, our gym teacher, shouted from down the hall. Mike gave a short laugh, but we quickly ducked our heads and went to English class.

We were reading _Hamlet_, so there was more reason to hate this class. I scribbled hearts on my notebook, occasionally writing Mike's name, and then mine.

"Psst," Mike whispered aside. I gave him a narrowed look, and pretended to be engrossed by Shakespeare's "beautiful imagery" and "incomparable metaphors"—or so the teacher describes.

"Jess," Mike whispered again. It sounded like a hiss, so I did the same, hoping he'd leave me alone.

I had nothing against Mike—I've been crushing on him since sophomore year. Ever since he'd gelled his hair in that spiky way, I've been smitten.

Actually, that was a lie. Ever since _Edward Cullen_ had rejected me countless times ("I'm sorry, Jessica, but I'm just not interested in a relationship—and that includes dating. At least not some time soon." "Well, when _will_ you be interested?" "Not now. Please understand that.") I've learned to set my eyes on someone else: Mike Newton, teenage heartthrob, blue-eyed cutie, and all around good guy.

"Psst!"

"What!" I shouted just a little too loud. Mrs. Lafferty glared. I gulped.

"Ms. Stanley," Mrs. Lafferty smiled calmly—coldly, "Was there something you wanted to share with the class?" Her eyes were stainless steel swords—silver and penetrating.

"N-no Mrs. Lafferty."

"Well, in that case," her voice never wavered from that sweet, cloying tone, "why don't you give me a summary of what happened in last night's reading?"

Crap. "Umm... Well, I remember there was plenty imagery, and those metaphors were incomparable..."

Beside me, Mike raised an eyebrow. I gave him a look, and he instantly retreated into the confines of his red folder.

_I tried to change  
But I changed my mind  
Think I'll have another glass of  
Mexican Wine_

"Mike, stop!" I playfully scolded, swatting his hand away from my waist. I didn't know how long we'd been here, but I ended up lying on the couch, with Mike on top of me.

I could see his grin, and his eyes were glinted with mischief.

His incomprehensible murmurs tickled my neck. I gasped at the feeling, the want that was overtaking me. God, Mike can be _hot_. I leaned my head back on the armrest, letting the heat spread through my body.

"Mike," I mumbled, finding it hard to speak clearly. "My mom's gonna be home in a bit."

He looked up, and the messy disarray that was his hair got caught in his blue eyes.

"Ow!" He immediately tore himself away from me, standing up and blinking.

"Are you alright?" I exclaimed, standing up as well. He had tears dripping down the right side of his face, and if possible, his pink eye made him look all the more cuter. "Mike, stop rubbing your eye."

He didn't listen, just tried to poke away the hair from his eye. I huffed, and sat back down. If he was not going to follow me, then he can cry himself to blindness.

"It won't go away!" He yelped in pain again, and the stomp of his foot startled me from my bitterness.

I took both his hands away from his face, holding them against his sides. "Mike," I blew on the steadily tearing eye. "Relax. You're not dying. It's just a piece of hair."

Mike sniffed, but nodded. "It's gone now." Then he blushed _crazy_. I noticed he was looking at anywhere but me. "Sorry about that," he muttered, and placed himself on the couch.

Sighing dreamily, I followed his action, only I sat about a foot away from him. To anyone, it would've looked as if we were avoiding each other in the confinement of the love seat. But honestly, we were just giving each other the space, the 'alone time', that we healthily needed.

I found myself waiting for Mom to come opening the door, her keys jingling with the bag of groceries she always brought home. Lately Mike and I have found ourselves filling time with awkward silences, when I would fantasize about my dream boyfriend. No doubt he was thinking along the same lines (with a _girl_, of course—I don't think he rolls like _that_).

Exhaling dejectedly, I leaned my head lazily on the armrest. Just another afternoon with Mike... But of course, if anybody asked, I would tell them "I hung out with Mike the other day, and we just... you know, did our stuff."

"Jessica?"

"Yes, Mike? What. Is. It?"

"Do you even like me?"

My head snapped up to his direction. "Of course I like you, Mike." It was the truth. "But, I don't know, it's a weird attraction, this thing I feel."

He was smiling painfully, if such a thing was possible. His hands were on top of his legs, as if restraining from doing anything else. He was looking at his lap, and then he looked at me. "I think I know how that feels," he said carefully. "And I want us to work, and I _do _like you a lot, but we don't know _how_."

I blinked. Was he saying that we didn't know how to have a relationship?

"Oh," my surprise was not hidden at all. "But I don't want to break up with you." Ultimate truth be told, I hated being alone worse than I hated being with Mike. "You're annoying, but sometimes I like you like that."

He was confused, and so was I, at my statement. I wanted to slap myself at my stupidity.

"Well that was harsh," he sounded taken aback as he felt. Color stained my cheeks, and I tried to rectify. But he held his hand up, brushing my comment off. "But I like your honesty. You say it like it is."

"That's a good thing?" I muttered. Mike scooted closer to me, a gesture I assumed was to comfort me.

He placed his hands on my shoulders. My back was turned to him, because I faced away. Mike just leaned his head on my right shoulder, touching our faces together.

"Of course it's a good thing," he whispered. "You get this pretty face when you find something out. You're a curious creature."

I must have blushed like a tomato, and I smiled. He thought I was pretty?

"Do you really mean that?" Maybe he googled 'compliments'. Mike was not a romantic.

He didn't say anything, just pulled me back so we were pressed together. I was then somehow sitting on his lap.

I giggled. "Mike, you're like a chair." He too laughed, and he wrapped his arms around my stomach to keep me in place.

Not being able to fully turn my head to face him, I settled for licking the exposed cheek of his glowing face.

"A very sexy chair," I whispered. I was stroking his ego, but Mike's confidence only equaled fun.

"So..." Mike mused, kissing down my neck, never letting go if my body. "When did you say your mom's coming home?"

My breath hitched when he hit that soft spot on my ear. "Do you have a thing for my mom?" I joked, but then a new worry came over me. No, Mike definitely does not roll like that.

He laughed openly, creating vibrations in my ear. "Never mind I asked. Let's just continue to where we were."


	3. Buddy Holly

**Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. "Buddy Holly" belongs to Weezer.**

* * *

**Eric Yorkie**

_What's with these homies dissin' my girl?  
Why do they gotta front?  
What did we ever do to these guys  
That made them so violent?_

When shall I get my one true special someone?

I've been a good boy all my life. I never drink, never party, and I don't _ever_ bully or sully someone. Mom says, always with that teary smile on her face, that I am a blessing to us all.

Perfect grades, impeccable school records. Add on some shiny black hair and a goofy smile, and you get the one and only, Eric Yorkie.

I've never known how people perceive me. In their eyes, was I simply the school nerd? The sure-to-be valedictorian, the one aspiring to be the impossible?

Though these might accurately refer to me, I had something everyone else had: I had a teenage heart. Adolescence and angst play a big role in my seemingly academic life.

Everyday, I give a longing glance to each love-stoned student I pass. Currently, the most admired couple was that of Edward Cullen and Isabella Swan. They've been together for months, and never do I see a day in which they would not be sucking each other's faces. It was obvious that Edward was whipped. Whenever Bella would enter a room, her boyfriend's face would smile so brightly I wondered he did not have wrinkles yet. Sometimes I wonder if she ever gets nervous, because everyone seems to look at them when they kiss.

Though Bella is gorgeous, one did not have to be a genius to tell that the boy was the handsomer of the two. Every girl worshiped Edward—especially since Emmett Cullen and Jasper Hale graduated. They fixated on his messy hair, the way it looked like he had just gotten up from bed (_that _subject, with him getting up from _any_ bed, is an entirely different story), and how _"absofreakinglutely_ hot he looks!" Yes, I have heard of all his anatomical hotness, and then some. When the rumor that he modeled burst in the cafeteria, the female population of Forks High School stampeded to the computer labs, looking up 'Edward Cullen' in Google Images (disturbing, because that day I saw Mrs. Cope and the nurse ogling at the secretary's computer screen, giggling about "his yummy abs that look nothing like my husband's" and "everything down below").

Jealousy surged over me when I looked down at my skinny build, and the way my checkered shirt hung crinkled over my baggy pants. My sneakers, muddied and untied, seemed to laugh at me.

"Hi Eric," I heard Angela Weber's voice from my left. She was holding hands with Ben Cheney, who was inches shorter than her. He was carrying her books, and I could see his struggle to balance his backpack and Angela's AP textbooks.

"Morning Angela," I smiled slightly, hoping to hide the squeak in my voice. "Hi Ben."

"Did you finish that essay?" Ben asked, as we walked to our morning classes. Usually we would meet before the bell rang, because I had English with Ben. Angela had Spanish first, but she would stay with us to spend time with her boyfriend. That would be my cue to enter class. I would be the first person to arrive, of course, to Mrs. Lafferty's delight.

"Yeah. I even made a cover page for it." I positioned my messenger bag to a more comfortable position, the weight bringing my flimsy shoulder down.

"Oh." Ben said. "I need to get started on mine." Good luck. It took me _two hours_ just to get my extensive research done.

Just then Angela kissed his cheek. "I'll help you, Ben," she said. "I already did mine—it was easy, because my teacher gave us a paper with all the sources in it. My research took, like, ten minutes. Mr. Bruff organized it to match all the requirements."

Are you kidding me?

"Thanks, Ang." I turned away, hearing the noises of lips and skin.

"Well, I'm just gonna go inside, now that we've reached the classroom."

When I sat down on my seat, Mrs. Lafferty greeted me.

"Eric?" She sweetly said with a ladylike pitch, "Would you please try not to come here too early? I can't leave you alone in the room, and I'd rather be at the teacher's lounge than have to sit here fifteen minutes before the bell rings."

"Oh." Is that embarrassing or what? "I'm sorry."

"It's quite alright," Mrs. Lafferty laughed, then smiled as if she pitied me. "But it looks like someone needs to go out more." She meant it as a light joke, but her awareness of my unsocial life hit me like a heavy blow.

_Woo-hoo, but you know I'm yours.  
Woo-hoo, and I know you're mine.  
Woo-hoo, and that's for all of time._

Halfway through English, I had about two pages of notes, all written in scribbled writing. I was about to get a fresh piece of paper from my folder when—

"Sorry I'm late Mrs. Lafferty." Mike Newton, probably my closest friend, rushed to his seat. Mrs. Lafferty huffed angrily, but proceeded with her lecture.

I first met Mike in third grade, after I had just moved from Wisconsin. He seemed to be the friendliest, so I approached him, asking if I could sit with him at lunch. At first, he seemed to say no, but he saw our identical Spider-man lunch boxes, and ta-da: you had friendship.

But I think it was our differences that kept us together. Mike and I, we did not see eye to eye. He wanted to be Mr. Popular, and I tried to be Mr. Smart. Bad grades affected me deeply; to him, they were merely a complication.

Mike knew that, in the eyes of the shallow public, he was better than me. He appealed to the girls; I did not. I guess he wanted to stand next to someone that would make him look good. This realization should have ended our friendship, but I found it impossible. I really had no other friends, and one day he might—

"Sorry I'm late Mrs. Lafferty." It was Jessica Stanley, Mike's on-and-off girlfriend. Her hair was particularly bushy today, and it was apparent that she just woke up.

This time the teacher put down her chalk. "Oh for heaven's sake. Why can't you children just get here on time? It's not like you people do _such important_ things at night." She scanned the room, wary if what she said was actually untrue.

I was sitting in the front row, but I heard Mike snicker, who was sitting at the back.

When Mrs. Lafferty continued speaking, I took out another sheet of paper and wrote. Giggles and muffled laughter floated in my mind the whole period.

_Woo-ee-oo, I look just like Buddy Holly.  
Oh-Oh, and you're Mary Tyler Moore.  
I don't care what they say about us anyway.  
I don't care 'bout that._

"Eric, can I talk to you?" Mike grabbed my arm in the hallway, leading me in front of the boys' bathroom.

I was surprised that he confronted me, when he had Jessica to tell. But nevertheless, I said a quiet "sure".

"I got a problem," Mike admitted. He was looking in all directions, checking if any eavesdroppers were around. When he was satisfied, he said: "It's about Jessica."

_Not again! _I thought. If there was ever a more confusing relationship, it was Mike and Jessica's. Both liked different people (the above mentioned most admired couple) but they insisted on dating each other. I think they had lust, but no real interest. Still, lust alone helped them remain together, no matter how unstable.

"What is it this time? You finally breaking up with her for good and ask Bella out?" I snorted. Like that would ever happen.

But Mike didn't have time for humor. "I think I actually love her."

A squeak escaped from my throat. "Are you serious?" In all his complaints about the most gossipy girl of Forks, never had Mike encountered this strong feeling for her. It was inconceivable!

"Dude, I'm totally serious it's not even funny," his eyes were wide, and it seemed he was pleading for some holy answer.

I didn't see the problem with falling in love. I suddenly wished I was Mike Newton, the annoying boy who copied all your Calculus homework.

"What's the big deal?" I asked. "Jessica likes you too."

He scoffed. "I don't mean Jessica. I mean _Bella_!" He was looking at me angrily, and it was what stopped me from laughing.

"B-Bella?" My question came out stumbled with laughter. I took back what I thought about wanting to be Mike. "You might as well give up on love now, buddy boy. There's no way Bella's going to be detached from Edward."

Mike looked thoughtful, as if doubting my response. But he sighed, and leaned on the wall. "Yeah, you're probably right."

He clearly was not consoled, so I thought I should help him clear his emotions.

"Mike, what's so wrong with Jessica? Why can't she be enough?" Sometimes I felt pity for him. But those times were rare, for I spent most of my nights pitying myself.

My friend looked at me blankly. "I don't know," he said after some thought. "Jessica's great. I mean, _really_ great. But she's no Bella."

"What about Bella attracts you?" This was probably the wrong question to ask, but I was no expert in love. I leaned at the opposite wall, hoping I would look more casual than awkward.

When Mike didn't answer, I asked again. He sighed dreamily.

"Bella just has an air to her. She's so pretty, it takes my breath away." Mike smiled, possibly reminiscing about a 'moment' with Bella. "She's smart, too, and her secretive smiles, like... she has so many secrets, they're so—"

I interrupted him, kicking him in the shin. When he gave me an annoyed look, I nodded to the cafeteria doors. Edward and Bella had come out, all smiles and glee. I instinctively faced down, and Mike glared.

"Hi Bella," Mike's voice was controlled, but not convincingly so.

I looked at Bella. She seemed to be worried. "Hi Mike," she muttered. Edward remained quiet, but I saw his hand squeeze Bella's shoulder. If only I was that strong, and that smooth, then I could get someone like Bella...

Edward cleared his throat. "Bella?" He asked. I thought I'd imagined it, but he seemed amused by something. "Do you want to go?"

"Sure." And they went.

It took me a while, but then I realized: they were skipping class!

_Don't you ever fear, I'm always near. I know that you need help.  
Your tongue is twisted, your eyes are slit.  
You need a guardian._

I knocked on the Biology room.

"Mr. Banner?" I called out. A few seconds later, Mr. Banner emerged from the room, his car keys and folders in hand.

"Oh, Eric." He regarded me like a small ant. "I'm sorry, but there will be no meeting today. I've got an appointment to attend."

I only nodded, and headed for my locker. I wasn't in the mood for learning something advanced today anyway.

When I was heading for my car, I was surprised to find Jessica, alone and sitting on the hood of her car.

She heard me, and smiled. "Hi Eric." Her mood was far from cheerful. As I got closer, I realized she'd been crying. Her nose was red, and her hair stuck to her tear-covered face.

"What happened?" Why did I have a feeling this had something to do with Mike?

"Nothing really," she whispered. I was afraid she would start sobbing. I inched closer, leaning down one headlight.

How did one console a woman? It was impossible to make a woman smile—all my experience prove likewise!

"Do you want to talk about it?" I said each word slowly, trying to see what reaction I got from her. I already knew she would say yes; Jessica liked to talk.

Her eye twitched, as if recalling a horrid memory. "Maybe. But will you listen?" She was looking at me so piercingly, I wondered what it was _I _did wrong.

"Of course I'll listen," I promised. Jessica smiled.

_Woo-hoo, and you know I'm yours.  
Woo-hoo, and I know you're mine.  
Woo-hoo, and that's for all of time._

I had been doing my History homework when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Dude! What did you say to her?" Mike's angry voice made me flinch away from the handle.

Cautiously, I spoke: "What are you talking about?" Though I had a good idea what he was talking about.

"_Jessica!_ You talked to Jessica today, and now she's all mad at me, saying she deserves someone who thought of only her!" I could almost feel his frustration radiating from the wires.

Lying would be deadly at this point. "Mike, I don't know how she got that idea from me." But that didn't mean I wouldn't lie still.

"Liar!" He yelled.

I coughed. "I don't exactly know how it came out, okay? One minute she was all emotional, and then I started giving her advice..." I stopped, acknowledging my mistake.

"You _gave _Jessica advice?" He was incredulous; so was I. Could I really help it? Every day, people come to me for assistance—be it projects, or some other school-related problem. Caring was in my nature. Sometimes it was my misery.

"Jessica had a lot on her mind." No thanks to_ you_, Mike. "I just wanted to help out."

"Whatever." He hung up.

_I don't care 'bout that._

I was sitting in my car, waiting for the morning bell to ring. Thinking it time consuming, I took out some homework and looked for mistakes.

A loud, rumbling engine made its way to the parking spot next to mine. That deafening sound was unmistakably Bella's truck. Only Edward was driving. Through the open window, I could see he was holding Bella's left wrist, dangling it in front of his face before he kissed it. Bella blushed as red as her truck.

I shouldn't be watching such an intimate moment. That was between the two of them. But that didn't stop me.

When I looked, Edward had his back turned to me, facing Bella. She was much too preoccupied with his face to recognize me.

One second, they were just staring at each other, then the next they were wrapped in the other's arms. I do not know how he did it, but it looked like he pushed her against the passenger window, though Bella did not look uncomfortable. He was kissing her down to her neck, the way those romantics from movies would just before they would make love.

I gasped just a little when Bella gave a sharp moan of pleasure. Her face wasn't visible to me anymore; all I saw was Edward's hair, and his back practically hovering above hers.

My cheeks felt hot. What was I _doing_? I felt perverted; looking at these two kiss each other like there was no tomorrow, like their humanity depended on it.

Oh, God. I could hear Edward saying her name lovingly. "Bella... So beautiful..." Why was the window open?

For today, I decided that Mrs. Lafferty's pitying looks were far better than Bella Swan's expression of ecstasy.

As I walked away, I _swear_ I heard someone, who sounded like Edward Cullen, say "I'm telling you, he'll only learn from this."

_Bang! Bang! Knock on the door, another big bang, get down on the floor.  
Oh No! What do we do?  
Don't look now but I lost my shoe.  
I can't run and I can't kick.  
What's a matter babe, are you feelin' sick?  
What's a matter, what's a matter, what's a matter you?  
What's a matter babe, are you feelin' blue?  
Oh-oh-oh!_

When I came to English, I first saw Mrs. Lafferty standing by her desk, stacking up worksheets for the day's lesson. I entered, and surprisingly, she didn't tell me to go somewhere else before the bell rings.

Then I saw why: Mike Newton and Jessica Stanley were seated in their desks. From my viewpoint, they looked childish, sitting next to each other, but facing opposite directions. Jessica had her arms crossed, and Mike had his head on the desk.

"Good morning Eric," Mrs. Lafferty greeted pleasantly. She seemed amused by the grumpy people's situation.

"Good morning Mrs. Lafferty." I looked at Mike. "Hi Mike."

"Eric," he grumbled in response, closing his eyes.

Jessica huffed at Mike's behavior. "Hello Eric."

After sitting in silence for two minutes, I decided someone had to talk. The teacher was sitting on her desk, looking at the three of us intently. I was seated at the front, so it was kind of unnerving.

"So..." I started, keeping my eyes at the front. "What brings you guys here so early?"

"Mrs. Lafferty called my mom," Jessica muttered.

"Same here," Mike said. They both sounded asleep, and for that I was thankful. If they'd been more alert, then they'd realize that they broke up yesterday, and were supposed to be mad at each other.

I sighed in content, liking the day better than others. But then Mike had to speak.

"By the way, Eric, don't think I've forgotten all about yesterday. I know what you're trying to do, though I don't know _why_ you'd want to—"

"Mike! Shut up! It's not his fault we talked yesterday," Jessica snapped. "You're making such a big deal out of this."

I didn't dare look behind me, but Mrs. Lafferty's interested face was an indication of something terrible.

Mike scoffed. "_I'm_ making a big deal out of it? You went all girly and cried, just because you heard something you _already know_, then you talked to _Eric _over here—"

This angered me. "And what's so wrong with talking to _me_?" I clenched my teeth. I felt Mike's betrayal, Jessica's pity, and it confused me.

"I know what you're up to," Mike sneered. "_You_, Eric, are trying to get with _my_ girlfriend."

I still was not looking at them, but I could take a guess at the scene behind: Jessica's widened eyes, and Mike's triumphant grin. I stayed silent.

Finally, Jessica laughed. "Jesus, Mike, what the hell's wrong with you? That just sounded wrong."

Mrs. Lafferty had a disapproving look in her face, but remained indifferent in action.

"It makes perfect sense!" Mike was stubbornly feeling victorious. "He's _always_ been jealous of me, Jessica. Don't you see? He's trying to take you away from me!"

This time I couldn't take anymore. I looked Mike straight into the eye, and he stared confidently back.

"That's not true!" I exclaimed, but the strong effect I was going for didn't quite work, what with the uneven pitch of my voice. Damn puberty.

I blushed, and I noticed then that I was not the type of person to stand up for the different. I was not defiant; I was better off a follower. Mike laughed quietly. I looked to see Jessica looking thoughtful.

My revelation only made me slump back in my chair. Oh, how minutes could be synonymous with hours...

The bell rang, and students filed in. Just as Mrs. Lafferty was to begin class, Jessica raised her hand.

"Yes, Miss Stanley?"

"Can I sit somewhere upfront?"

Mrs. Lafferty gestured to the empty desk beside me.

"You can take Ben's place today. Now, where did we leave off yesterday?"

_And that's for all of time.  
And that's for all of time._

After English, I suspected Jessica was using me.

And Mike confirmed my suspicion.

"She's using you," he said during lunch. "She's using you, the way only cruel women would."

Unfortunately, Jessica was sitting in between us during lunch.

She snorted in disbelief. "Oh, then tell me, Mike: how exactly I'm using Eric?"

Mike swallowed his pizza, and cleared his throat for an explanation. "Simple, really," he retorted. "In English, you kept passing him notes, just to ask for his notes. Then you begged him to be your partner, only to have him do all the work. Then you kept looking at me, smiling so devilishly." It took him a moment to figure everything out, though I was still sort of lost. "You're trying to make me jealous."

"No I'm not," Jessica said coyly. She took a small bite of her pizza, never taking her gaze off Mike. It was as if I didn't exist.

Well, phooey! For a second (a minuscule amount of time, I swear) I really thought Jessica was interested in becoming more than partners with me. She kept batting her eyelashes like there was something in her eye, but she looked hopeful too, so maybe she wanted me to do something to her?

But no. She wanted Mike to notice her, and see that she won't always be there for him. Jessica was someone worth fighting for, she was trying to say.

And, once and for all, Mike listened.

I turned my head away, predicting the coming sound of lips and skin.

_I don't care 'bout that.  
I don't care 'bout that.  
I don't care 'bout that._


	4. Whole Wide World

**Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. "Whole Wide World" belongs to Wreckless Eric.**

* * *

**Mike Newton**

_When I was a young boy  
My mama said to me  
There's only one girl in the world for you  
And she probably lives in Tahiti  
_

Jessica and I have never been happier.

Every day, we would meet at the front of the school and greet each other with a wet, breathtaking kiss. It was almost too easy to ignore Bella and Edward. I could even say his name without spite—Edward was just another guy with a girlfriend.

"Newton! Keep your eye on the ball!" A whistle brought me back from my thoughts. Coach Clapp, dressed in funny-looking track pants and a sweatshirt, was looking at me angrily, holding her whistle away from her mouth.

"Sorry, coach." I dodged a spiked volleyball going my way. _Nobody_ can beat Mike Newton when he's in the zone.

_I'd go the whole wide world  
I'd go the whole wide world  
Just to find her_

When Gym was over, I walked over to Jessica, who was standing by her locker chatting with Lauren. They were such good friends, and, especially now that they both have boyfriends, they've been giggling more than ever.

"Hi Jessica," I kissed her cheek, but she turned her head so our lips could do the talking.

Lauren made a disgusted sound. "I'll see you later." She left, waving for some other girl to walk with her.

After a small laugh, we pulled away.

"Mike," she started playing with the button on my shirt, "Valentine's Day is coming up. Are we doing anything?" She looked up at me, her brown eyes widened with innocence.

I just stared at her, wondering if I had planned something. "Um," I stuttered, and she became suspicious, "I haven't really thought about it yet. How long do we have?"

"You have," she thought for a moment, "a week and a half to come up with something." And she abruptly turned away.

Slightly dejected, I walked to my locker. Just then, I heard the song "Float On" by Modest Mouse. My cell phone was ringing.

"Newton!" Mr. Banner's voice scolded down the hallway. "Put that phone away!"

"What?" I yelled at him. "School's done! And you came out of nowhere!" I made a turn for my backpack, trying to find my phone in one of the pockets.

"I don't care," Mr. Banner was walking toward me. "You put that phone away or you'll be getting detention." He pointed his finger disapprovingly.

"Bu—"

"Don't you _dare_ open that pocket!"

I zipped my bag closed. "Fine," I muttered. "Now it stopped ringing! What if it was my mom?" I paled at the thought of it.

The teacher just dismissed me with his hand. "Go take it somewhere else, kid."

Walking across the parking lot, my phone rang again. This time, I knew it was Jessica. Her customized ringtone made other people stare my direction, but I just sped up my gait. I ignored all their amused looks.

Some students started snickering, and I felt a blush creep up my cheeks. My car was all the way at the back, so I decided to answer my phone.

But then the ringing stopped. Groaning, I just headed for my car.

After a few steps, Jessica called again. This time, more students started laughing.

"Oh shut up!" I yelled at them. "It's not like you've never heard Backstreet Boys before!" This only made them laugh harder. I reddened, but tried to stand tall. "It's just "Show me the Meaning of Being Lonely"! Jeez, be mature, my girlfriend picked it out!"

When I was safely in my car, I answered. "Hello?"

"Mike? Do you have work today? I'm at my house right now."

I started the engine, and nodded. Then it hit me that she hadn't heard an answer. "Oh, yeah, I'll be at the store till seven."

"Oh," I imagined her making her sad face. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow then. Bye."

"Bye." I sighed once, then threw my phone in the backseat.

_Or maybe she's in the Bahamas  
Where the Caribbean Sea is blue  
Weeping in a tropical moonlit night  
Because nobody's told her 'bout you  
_

When I entered the store, I saw something that made my jaw drop—Bella was sitting on the counter, next to the stack of energy drinks, wearing her Newton's Outfitters uniform. Her long, reddish-brown hair was styled as if she had just gotten up from bed. Her face was so red, I thought her face would explode with heat. One word: sexy.

But I didn't see the rose tint of her lips, for _Cullen's_ mouth covered hers completely_—he_ only rarely visits his girlfriend at work, and he chose today as one of those rarities_._ One hand was inappropriately at the back of her neck, holding her so carefully, yet their embrace could only be described as rough. Zealous and passionate. Raw and dirty. Bella was leaning back, and with _Cullen_ towering over her, it looked like they would go farther than kissing if I hadn't made a rather girly squeal.

I mentally kicked myself for being disappointed when Bella sat up and hopped off the counter. Cullen was staring at me, a fierce look in his eyes, though he smiled smugly.

"Edward, you better go," I heard Bella mutter. Her voice sounded breathless.

With a curt nod, Cullen left.

I exhaled, finding the tension gone. He always intimidated me.

"Hi Bella," I could tell she was a bit embarrassed being caught, but I was even more embarrassed because I had been watching her.

"Hi Mike." She straightened her shirt, then worked on some stacks of baseball bats.

Finding no customer around, I went to the back to put on my uniform. I also tried to calm myself down—the image of her making out with Cullen would stay in my mind for a while.

I got back out and took my place by the register. Bella was standing beside me, and I found myself unable to break the awkward silence.

But there was something I wanted to know. "Bella, what are you doing for Valentine's Day?"

She looked at me strangely, and shrugged. "I don't really know. We've never thought about it."

"By 'we', do you mean you and Cu—Edward?"

"Yeah," she smiled. I smiled back. She has a beautiful smile.

I wondered what Cullen had planned for Bella—probably something that would knock her socks off (or, if I was to be _real_ imaginative, he would do something that would knock _all _her clothing off).

What was Edward Cullen's secret? Money? Insanely good looks? I decided that his most luring weapon was his mystery—suave and smooth.

"Bella," I gave her my most intense stare, trying to communicate with my eyes how much I wanted her. Words were not used when one was mysterious—it was all about the body language.

She gave me a petrified look, and I tried to soften my gaze. Before I could say anything else, she went to the fishing aisle.

_I'd go the whole wide world  
I'd go the whole wide world  
Just to find her  
_

The next morning started like any other. Jessica was by my side, and I felt secure again. By lunch, my mood was markedly brightened.

"So, Mike, what're we doing for Valentine's?" Jessica asked casually.

I looked down at my pizza. "Um, do _you_ have anything in mind?"

She rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Aren't you even going to surprise me?" Eric, who was sitting to my right, looked at us curiously. He always loved it when Jessica and I argued.

"Well, I don't really know," I said nervously. She was going to get angry, I just knew it. "I mean, we could go to dinner if you want."

She huffed. "Alright. We'll go to dinner." But she wasn't satisfied.

"And a movie?" I added. She only looked at me dangerously, clearly unhappy.

I bit into my pizza. "Why don't you just tell me what you want?" I asked.

She slammed down her bottle of water. "Oh for Christ's sake! I want you to surprise me!" She looked at me the way she did whenever I did something wrong—incredulous and displeased.

"If you want me to surprise you," I put my pizza down, "then why do you keep asking?"

She blinked at my tone of voice. "Well, Mike," she said in an icy tone. "Because you have Valentine's Day all set, then I guess I'll just have to wait for my _big, romantic _surprise, huh?"

I hated her for treating me like I would follow her every order. But I didn't want to break up with her, and be another gossip of Forks. I _needed_ Jessica. Without her, I'd be a single guy, with no one to kiss in the morning, and no one to call at night (my mom did not count).

But I still wanted to defy her, if only to rile her up. "You know what? Yeah, you'll just have to wait for your surprise. And it's going to totally blow your mind!" I laughed in triumph, anticipating the look on Jessica's face when I would outdo her expectations. "So don't bother me until then!"

I marched to my next class, and stopped. "Oh, crap."

_I'd go the whole wide world  
I'd go the whole wide world  
Find out where they hide her_

On Saturday I went to work. Jessica had called earlier, asking about my goings-on.

"So, how's your big surprise going?" She asked sarcastically. It was as if she knew I had nothing.

"It's going fine," I wouldn't have been able to tell a deliberate untruth.

At work, I saw Bella, holding a dozen flowers. They weren't roses, but they still looked pretty.

"Hi Bella," I greeted, putting my hat on. "What are those?"

She smelled them. "Freesias," she said. "Edward got 'em for me."

Of course! Flowers would make a girl happy, even the difficult-to-please Jessica. I took out a piece of paper and a pen from the table and wrote down the word _flowers_ in bold.

Bella noticed what I was doing, and smiled. "I heard you were planning something big for Jessica." When I nodded, she asked, "Care to tell me what it is?"

I could tell she wasn't really interested, but I told her the truth. "I don't really have anything at this point. D'you have any suggestions?" If it was good enough for Bella, it would be _stupendous_ for my girlfriend.

She blushed. "Shouldn't you ask a guy for that? I don't really know how to be a proper romantic." She arranged the box of lip balm in front of her, in wanting to avoid the question.

Was she kidding? If there was one thing I knew about Bella, it was that she liked reading—not just reading, but reading those classical novels that had nothing but sappy love moments full of adorations and romantic affectations.

"Don't you have _any _idea of how I can make Jessica drop weak to her knees?" My goal: Jessica becomes surprised to hell, and never doubts my romancing powers ever again.

"Well," Bella said, looking up at me. "You could always take her to her favorite place."

That actually seemed like a good idea. "But I don't know where that is."

She looked thoughtful as well. "Maybe at the mall... " She shuddered. What was wrong with the mall? It was a fun place to be, with so many people (unlike Forks) and clothes to buy.

Just then an elderly man walked in. He didn't seem like the type to go outdoors—though he had dark skin, and plenty of wrinkles around his eyes. He was wearing a brown overcoat and a brim hat, with a walking cane. His brown shoes _clicked-clacked_ against the tiled floor.

Walking up to him, I greeted with the usual "Hi! How may I help you?"

The man grumbled something undistinguishable and walked to the cash register, where Bella was standing.

"Miss?" He called. Bella was startled, but straightened up and said, "Did you want something?" She looked at me, probably wondering why _I_ didn't assist him.

The man laughed a throaty and congested laugh. "Actually," he said. "I'm here to deliver a message." He took something from his pocket, before saying, "It's for you."

"Excuse me?" She was shocked. I was too, but I wanted to know what he had for her. The strange man gave her the piece of crumpled paper.

I looked at their exchange with awe. The man's brown skin made a startling contrast with Bella's pale flesh. I wondered, how did_ I _compare to the fair Bella?

She read the note, and the man stood there, watching her reaction.

Then a thought occurred to me. What if it was a trap? What if, the man gave her a note to distract her, then _kidnap_ her far away!

I gasped. The man leaned forward on the counter, and Bella seemed to have a smile on her face.

Before I could protest to her saying anything, she gave him back the note.

"Tell him I'll try to meet him," she said. Bella looked troubled, and the elderly man smiled in sympathy.

The man nodded. "I'll tell him. But don't feel bad; the boy just wants to see you." He waved off and left the store.

As he passed me, I gave him a curious glance. I was still suspicious, but it seemed Bella trusted him.

He noticed my stare, and his mood darkened. "Boy, if you know what's good for you, then you'd stop staring at me like that. I'll send the dogs to you. See if I don't."

I was shocked at his response, and I looked to check if Bella heard it. Her face was pale, but she seemed to find my situation funny.

"Who was that?" I asked, partly angrily, but mostly sheepish.

She shook her head. "Just a friend."

Did she have to be so vague? "You're friends with that guy?"

"No," she seemed somewhat annoyed, proceeding to restack some mints. "But he knows my friend."

I would've asked for more, but the song "Show me the Meaning of Being Lonely" blared through my pocket.

"Um," I headed for the staff room. "That's Jessica. I'll be right back, okay?"

She seemed to understand why I was blushing, so I silently left the store.

_Why am I hanging around in the rain out here  
Trying to pick up a girl?  
Why are my eyes filling up with these lonely tears  
When there're girls all over the world?_

"Hello?"

"Mike, it's Jessica. Are you at work?"

"Yes, I am. I always work on Saturdays." Thinking my tone a little harsh, I tried, "Do you want to do something tonight?"

"Oh," she definitely was not expecting that. "Sure. Maybe a movie?"

For a second, I hesitated. I remembered the time Bella asked me to a movie. I don't remember the actual movie, because I'd been unfortunately sick that night. Out of all the nights to get the flu, I had it when the girl of my dreams was with me. Never mind that Jacob Black was with us; but Bella just had to see me throw up.

"She just _had _to." When I heard my thought aloud, I snapped the phone shut.

_Is she lying on a tropical beach somewhere  
Underneath the tropical sun  
Pining away in a heat wave there  
Hoping that I won't be long_

When I had gotten home, my dad was watching baseball.

"Hey son," he said, not taking his eyes off the screen. "Your mom's makin' dinner. Why don't you do your homework first? Mrs. Lafferty called me and told me to remind you that your essay is due on Monday."

I sat beside him and groaned. I really did not want to do my report on Shakespeare just yet. "Dad," I told him. "I just got back from a movie with Jessica. We ate a little, and right now I'm just tired." I lay my head down the armrest.

He nodded, and I knew he wasn't listening. Sports always captured his principal attention.

After a moment, he seemed to absorb what I had said. "Oh, how is Jessica?" He asked casually, when a commercial came on.

Ding! Either dinner was ready, or an idea had popped in my head.

"Hey, dad," I said. "I'm actually thinking of doing something... _special_ for her this Valentine's Day." His graying brows furrowed, not liking where this was going. "Got any ideas?"

He looked toward the kitchen. "Well, there's plenty ways to get to a woman's heart." He spoke proudly, his chin moving upward an inch. "It all depends on the girl. What kind of girl is Jessica?"

I thought about it. "She's just like any other girl."

My dad nodded his head and motioned for me to continue.

"Um," I thought of the positive things about Jessica. Why was it that when I needed something, it refused to show? "She likes to talk, and watch movies. She also likes the beach and watching T.V."

"Okay..." My dad was unsure how to continue. "Why don't you just ask her what she wants for Valentine's?"

"That wouldn't be romantic at all. She wants it to be a surprise."

He looked at me strangely, but kept quiet.

"John! Mike!" I heard my mom call from the kitchen. "Dinner's ready!"

Dad stood up and I followed.

_I should be lying on that sun-soaked beach with her  
Caressing her warm brown skin  
And then in a year or maybe not quite  
We'll be sharing the same next of kin_

"So, honey, Mike here has something to ask you," my dad said in between chews of lasagna. My mom immediately looked at me, concern written on her face.

"Well, what is it sweetie?"

I swallowed. "Um, I just wanted to do something for Jessica on Valentine's."

My mom smiled. "Oh, you two are so _adorable_ together! You know, when you were just three years old, Jessica's mom and I would watch you two play with each other, and we would make bets on how long till you would date each other! You never did like that Lauren girl, but I remember Jessica always had a special place in your hea—"

"Karen," my dad interrupted. "Mike just needs advice, not a speech on his childhood history."

She gave him a dirty look, but faced me with excitement in her eyes.

"You should send her flowers, starting a few days before Valentine's Day! Then you could write her love letters," here she looked at me mischievously, "and on the special day, you'd go someplace special."

I was nodding during her explanation, and I was still bobbing my head when she stopped speaking.

"Well?" I asked. She just took a bite from her fork, as if there never was a conversation. "Mom!"

"Yes, honey?"

"What kind of special place do I take her to?"

She laughed. "Sweetie! That's for _you _to decide. Don't you two have a secret place for yourselves?" Her manicured nails clasped around my wrist, though it was far from comforting. I edged my seat away.

I thought of the broom closet at school. "Nothing special."

She looked at me disapprovingly. "Well, Mike, you better think of a special happy place."

I groaned. Surprises were so hard to design!

My dad spoke. "Why don't you sleep on it? Something's bound to come to you. I know my son's good with the ladies."

"Yeah," I agreed halfheartedly. "I'll go now."

_I'd go the whole wide world  
I'd go the whole wide world  
Just to find her  
I'd go the whole wide world  
I'd go the whole wide world  
Find out where they hide her_


	5. Soco Amaretto Lime

**Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. "Soco Amaretto Lime" belongs to Brand New.  
**

* * *

**Jessica Stanley**

When my alarm clock rang, I carelessly pressed the snooze button. Today, the shrill beeping of the clock did not ruin my happy mood.

For at the bottom right corner of the clock, projected with dim red lights, it read: 2-14.

"Happy Valentine's Day," I whispered to myself, throwing the covers off me.

Walking to my door so I'd go to the bathroom, I smiled when I saw the card that Mike gave me yesterday. It was a musical card, playing "A Bicycle Built For Two" and showing a couple riding a bicycle built for two. I opened it again, relishing the words he'd written. He was not the world's best romancer, but he sufficed. The words 'I like being with you' made my heart flutter in the weirdest motions.

I arrived to school, wearing a pink blouse and a red skirt. It was drizzling slightly, so I had to put my coat on, to my disappointment. I looked around the parking lot; Mike was not there.

I was immediately worried. Didn't he say he had the surprise ready?

In the beginning, I never expected for him to take Valentine's seriously. But as the days went, I received love poems, chocolate, freesias, and Valentine's cards.

Lauren sidled next to me, a frown plastered on her face. She'd been bitter toward me, because unlike Tyler, Mike was paying plenty of attention to me. I have to admit, I liked my friend's jealousy. It boosted my confidence.

"So, did Mike give you anything today?" She asked, her nasally voice giving an edge to her tone. We walked to the school doors, ignoring Tyler's calls for his girlfriend.

"He's not here yet." I became nervous. What if Mike had nothing for me? No. That was impossible. Maybe this was part of his plan.

"Oh." Lauren looked around. "Well, maybe he has something else planned." I didn't miss her hope of Mike blowing me off on this day.

"Whatever." I rolled my eyes, _trying_ to keep calm.

_Passed out on the overpass  
Sunday best and broken glass  
Broken down from the bikes and bars  
Suspended like spirits over speeding cars _

In English, Mrs. Lafferty _pummeled_ us with Shakespearean sonnets. We had to do this activity where we would read a sonnet and put in our own words what it meant. Now, I'm usually good for romance, but Shakespeare puts it into a new level, making it impossible to translate.

Mike wasn't in English.

"Hey, Jessica," Eric greeted me cheerfully. He seemed awfully smug, considering he didn't have a Valentine today.

"Eric."

"D'you know where Mike is?" That annoying smile never left his face.

"No," I replied, quitting on my sonnet for the time being. "Have _you_ seen him?"

His grin grew wider, and my eyes did the same.

"Eric," my voice became pleading. "Where is he? Is he at home? Is he at school? Eric, you better wipe that smile off your face because it is pissing me off! Eric! What is Mike doing?"

He shook his head, grinning from ear to ear. "He's at home right now. Decided to skip first class."

I tried going back to work, but only one thing came to mind: Mike didn't get me a Valentine's surprise. I could feel my cheeks getting hot. I looked down, hoping I wouldn't cry. Eric saw this, and immediately backed down, shameful for finding the whole thing funny.

"Okay, class," Mrs. Lafferty's high voice trilled, "your homework is to give that sonnet to your special someone." She rolled her eyes, knowing full well that no one was likely to do it. I looked around, and some girls were actually _smiling_, giggling about how so and so was going to receive a love letter from them.

Beneath my hand, my poorly translated sonnet crumpled into a tight ball.

When the bell rang, I sat frozen, desperately wishing Mike would come.

Eric came to my seat. He was about to apologize, but my steel glare made him bite back his tongue. He blinked, but then he took a piece of paper from his folder and placed it softly on my desk. He waited.

"What is this?" I finally looked at the paper. It was a Shakespearean sonnet, but there was no interpretation:

"O! HOW I faint when I of you do write  
Knowing a better spirit doth use your name,  
And in the praise thereof spends all his might,  
To make me tongue-tied, speaking of your fame!  
But since your worth—wide as the ocean is,—  
The humble as the proudest sail doth bear,  
My saucy bark, inferior far to his,  
On your broad main doth wilfully appear.  
Your shallowest help will hold me up afloat,  
Whilst he upon your soundless deep doth ride;  
Or, being wrack'd, I am a worthless boat,  
He of tall building and of goodly pride:  
Then if he thrive and I be cast away,  
The worst was this;—my love was my decay."

I read it over, but the words (beautiful imagery... incomparable metaphors... yeah, right), they only went through my head.

"Eric," I said, visibly annoyed. "What does this all mean?" Did he not already know how I struggled through literature?

"Well, if you break it all down, it'll make sense—"

"What the heck?" I interrupted. "Eric, I'd rather you gave me a riddle!"

He blushed. "But it tells everything."

"Will it tell me where Mike is?" I asked, stashing the paper in my backpack. "Honestly, Eric, you are _so_ weird." He was annoying! "And I know you get all happy when me and Mike fight; that only goes to show how good of a friend _you_ are!"

Eric's face turned angry, but I stormed off first.

"Happy Valentine's indeed," I grumbled, heading off to Spanish.

_ You and me were kings over the parkway tonight  
And tonight will go on forever while we  
Walk around this town like we own the streets  
And stay awake through summer like we own the heat _

The rest of the day became repetitive, what without Mike being there. Why did he have to abandon me on the day of love?

I drifted off to my worries in all my classes. Lauren kept smiling to herself, having received a card from Tyler.

"We're going to a romantic dinner," she said, all the while shoving the card in my face. I hated her.

When the dismissal bell rang, I more or less sprinted to my car.

But then I just had to see _them. _Edward and Bella. Why does the world do this to me?

From my perspective, they were arguing. Not so much as a fight, but Bella was shaking her head, wide-eyed and angry. Edward was holding open the door to his Volvo with that smirk on his face. I walked closer so I could hear.

"Fine, Edward, but you're I'll be paying half," Bella said sternly. Edward just smiled and went to the driver's seat.

Edward murmured something, and they kissed. Just like that. Boom. Fireworks. It happened to them every time.

"Why can't _that_," I referred to Edward, perfect Edward Cullen, "belong to me?" Hastily, I sped through Forks, muttering curses as I got closer to the Newtons'.

_ Singing "everybody wake up (wake up) it's time to get down"  
(everybody, everybody wake up it's time to get down)  
And when I pass the bottle back to Pete  
On the overpass tonight, I bet we laugh_

"Mike! I know you're in there! How could you do this to me?" I knocked on the door. I would have hit the wood harder, but there was only so much my knuckles could've taken.

There were no cars around, but I had a feeling he was home. I repeated my yells, hoping he would answer.

As I screamed, I wondered what I was doing there. Was I going to break up with him? Would I give him another chance?

Before I made a decision, Mrs. Newton answered the door.

"Jessica," she said pleasantly, though her smile seemed forced, "Mike isn't here. He's at the store."

"What?" I didn't believe her. "Mrs. Newton, what's he doing in the store?"

She shook her head. "I don't know dear. He said he felt sick, then he wanted to go to the store."

"Oh." I didn't know whether to believe her or not, but I backed down the porch steps. "Can you tell him to call me when he gets home? I'll be at my house."

By the time I slacked myself on the bed, I lost all energy to be angry. I wasn't even sad; I was just disappointed. My phone rang several times, but because it was on vibrate, I didn't feel the need to shut off any sound.

My parents went to Seattle for the day, having expected Mike to take me somewhere after school.

Wandering around the house, I went to the computer. Something (besides Mike) was bugging me, but I couldn't remember what.

I took out some homework, when I figured out what it was that was itching to be figured out: the sonnet that Eric gave me in English.

Which sonnet was it? I knew Shakespeare had written a lot, and the title wasn't written on the paper. Mrs. Lafferty probably wanted the kids to figure out the meaning without much help.

I was about to forget about it, but I placed it on my desk beside the computer.

"I'll just type the words in Google," I said to myself. I did just that, and I found out that it was Sonnet 80.

"Alright," I muttered, finding this whole ordeal ridiculous, "Sonnet 80 analysis." I pronounced each word as I typed.

Apparently, Sonnet 80 was a part of a series of sonnets that talked about the poet's rival, who was also a poet. The poet's rival was worthier of the poet's love than the poet himself, and they knew it—

My thoughts were interrupted when the doorbell rang.

I looked out my window, which was overlooking the porch. Mike was standing there, looking absolutely drenched in the rain.

_ I'm gonna stay eighteen forever  
So we can stay like this forever  
And we'll never miss a party  
Cause we keep them going constantly  
And we'll never have to listen  
To anyone about anything  
Cause it's all been done and it's all been said  
We're the coolest kids and we take what we can get_

"Jessica!" He waved his hands in the air, trying to get my attention. "Jessica! I'm sorry! I had nothing, alright? I wanted to do something special, but I had nothing!"

I shut my window. I put down the dark red curtains. Red-tinged darkness filled my room. The doorbell chimed again. My phone vibrated.

Gathering my anger and willpower, I bustled downstairs and yanked open the door. Mike was standing, holding his phone in his ear, a scared look in his face. I was sure I was seething by then.

"Mike," I mustered up a cold tone. "If you _even _so much as glance at me next time, I'll personally... " I stopped. I wasn't good with threats or trouble. "I-I'll do something bad!"

"But Jessica," he pleaded, "I tried. I didn't know where your special place was, and—"

"Why do you need to know my," I paused, raising an eyebrow, "special place?" Was it me or did he make an innuendo?

Mike blushed. "Well, that was where I was going to take you."

Then the pieces added up. "So you wanted to take me to my special place—"

"Happy place, if you will," he said, in all seriousness. The tension was slowly easing, but our problems were not completely resolved.

I sighed. "Why didn't you at least come to school? You could've explained it to me there, instead of_ leaving_ me all alone, and having _Lauren l_augh at my face the whole time." I was exaggerating, but Mike needed to know what his actions effected.

"I couldn't face you right there without anything," he reasoned. "I mean, I gave you flowers, and all that kinda stuff, but it never felt right. It didn't seem like the type of thing _I'd _give to _you_. All those gifts, they didn't seem special enough."

The look in his blue eyes gave me hope, hope that maybe he actually cared for me in a romantic way.

"Mike," I whined. That pout looked good on his face, "You could've _told_ me you had nothing. No need to be _ashamed_ of it."

I was leaning against the doorway, and Mike was standing on the porch, with his phone still in his hand.

He looked embarrassed. "I guess I wanted to prove you wrong, that I can do something without being told."

"But I _did_ tell you what to do," I pointed out. He had the weirdest logic.

He groaned. "I know! Well, what do you expect me to do? I can't really sweep you off your feet with one look, or one kiss! I'm not Edward Cullen!" He had stomped his foot while vociferating his grievances, and it shocked me. It shocked me with anger.

"Mike, I'm not comparing you to Edward!" He snorted in disbelief, but I stood tall. "Yes, I will admit—for the thousandth time—that Edward is probably _the_ most perfect guy out there, but I _know _what you are and what you're _not_! Don't think that every one of my thoughts is about Edward Cullen!"

His shoes were rooted on the spot.

"And you know what else, Mike? You're always thinking of Bella anyway!_ I_ don't matter to you, even when I try! Why can't you see that Bella and Edward will _always_ be together?"

"What do you mean by trying?" He asked in a small voice.

I blushed. "I just meant that, sometimes I actually _want_ us to be happy together. Not just to get through the day, but to be happy." And in love.

He guessed it. "You want to be in love?" Who'd know he would figure that out?

I nodded, closing my eyes. Mike didn't have to know that.

"Why are we trying so hard to be like _them_?" He snarled.

"Like who?"

"Cullen and Bella. What: are they the model for every relationship? Because, I gotta tell you, that won't be happening to us in the near future!" He struck his fist in the air, angry at the sky; he seemed to be going mad.

But I just felt a pang of guilt. I covered it up with my temper. "Only you're saying that! I'm not trying to be like _them_, Mike. But _they_ seem to have it all good. And look at us—we're falling apart over here, and we don't even know how we feel for each other!"

That made me think. What did I think of Mike? Up till recently, he'd been a substitute for an "Edward Cullen", someone who was good looking and nice enough to accept me, without making me embarrassed.

"How exactly do you think of me?" He asked the most complicated question I've ever encountered. I would've rather translated those Shakespearean sonnets. Mike looked determined—he was waiting for my answer.

"It's complicated."

"Well, try to explain."

"I like you, and I like when we're together, because I feel safe. I'm not alone when I'm with you." Did that sound odd or what? "I don't know—we just seem to fit. Out of the guys in Forks High, I'd pick you anytime."

His eyes softened. "What about Edward Cullen?"

I swallowed. "I won't get him, so what's the point? And Mike, you're really sweet, and you're _kind _of romantic, in your own way." He smiled at my answer and tugged my hand to pull me into a hug.

He was about half a foot taller than me, but he leaned down so our cheeks touched.

"Mike, you _really_ have to stop using hair gel. It makes your face all sticky with the rain," I whispered.

"Jessica," he put his hands around my face, his soft eyes glittering brightly. "I think I love you."

My mouth parted in surprise. All I could think was: Oh my God! Oh my _God_! Jesus Christ, I _cannot_ believe he just said that!

I would've voiced my mind, but I was breathless to speak. He was kissing me so differently, I wondered what changed him. There seemed to be a driving force that welded us together, and his hands gripped my shoulders a little tighter, as if he wanted me closer as the moment passed.

Completely melting into him, I held on to him, trying to stand firm. Fortunately, he chose to lean against the door frame, so I had more support instead of dropping down on the floor.

But in that microscopic second, that wonderful kiss that took the life out of me, I wondered. Did I love Mike? Had Mike meant what he said?

But just like any microscopic second, it moved on to the next. I was breathing hard, and he smiled.

Looking into his eyes, he seemed triumphant. "Mike," I said. "I think I love you too." His eyes, they looked so happy, and I never wanted another expression to replace them.

_ The hell out of this town  
Find some conversation  
The low fuel light's been on for days  
It doesn't mean anything  
I've got another 500, 'nother 500 miles  
Before we shut this engine down,  
We shut it down_


	6. Dashboard

**Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. "Dashboard" belongs to Modest Mouse**

* * *

**Jessica Stanley**

_Well, it would've been, could've been  
Worse than you would ever know.  
Oh, the dashboard melted,  
But we still have the radio._

"You really don't have to do this," I protested. Though honestly, I was curious to where we were going. "You're only making me feel guilty I didn't get you anything for Valentine's."

"Not at all," Mike opened my car door for me, and I looked up to where we were going for dinner: La Bella Italia.

I huffed.

Mike heard me. "Is something wrong?" He fidgeted with his keys, suddenly unsure where to place his arms as we walk outside.

"Nothing really," but there was that annoyed edge to my tone. "It's just this restaurant—this was where Bella and Edward had their first date."

He looked at me blankly, not getting the point. I sighed.

"It doesn't matter. Let's go in."

_Oh, it should've been, could've been  
Worse than you would ever know.  
Well, you told me about nowhere  
Well it sounds like someplace I'd like to go._

As we entered, I sniffed the scent of pasta and garlic.

"Table for two, please," Mike told the girl by the door.

My eyes widened. I remembered not too long ago what Bella had told me. The waitress was really pretty, and Bella had worried that Edward would get distracted.

I looked at the counter girl. She was about my age, and had strawberry blonde hair that reached down to her waist. Her slim figure had curves, something I lacked.

Did I dare look at Mike's reaction to the girl?

No. I just stared at the back of his head, occasionally glancing at the girl, who was looking down her book.

"I'm sorry," she said. "But we're fully booked at this time. Do you have any reservations?"

Mike blushed. Oh no.

"Actually, no," he admitted, "but is it possible to squeeze in just one tiny table for two?" He looked so hopeful, I wondered how the girl kept a straight face.

It wasn't until Mike handed her a fifty that she put her log book down and greeted, "Welcome to La Bella Italia. Please follow me to your table."

We got seated, and the girl left us to talk. Mike still looked sheepish.

"Don't worry about it, Mike. It happens to everybody," I assured him. Truthfully, I'd rather we actually left. I was still worried about the waitresses.

"Sorry we couldn't go some place fancier," he apologized. "But I couldn't think of anything else."

"Well," I joked. "At least you _thought_."

_Oh, it could've been, should've been  
Worse than you would ever know  
Well, the windshield was broken  
But I love the fresh air, y'know  
(The dashboard melted but we still have the radio)_

"Hi, I'm Amber," she sounded like a California model. I didn't know exactly how those sounded, but she sounded like one. "Thank you for choosing La Bella Italia. May I start you off with some drinks and appetizers?"

Need I say she looked like one too? Her hair was stick straight—oh, jealousy just poured from me—and her uniform was worn in a way to hug her tight body, her slightly muscular and tanned arms. She was looking at Mike expectantly. I wanted to yell at her, to tell her that it's _not_ okay to ogle at Mike.

But my boyfriend—who'd told me three times today that he loved me—was looking down at the menu. He seemed calm, so I tried being the same.

Amber leaned down to him, and Mike made the mistake of looking up at her eyes.

I wasn't close enough to see their color, but I think Mike was captivated by Amber's eyes. They were probably green or icy blue. Brown just wasn't enough for Mike, huh?

"I'll just have an iced tea," he said, not fazed at all. His voice was cool, smooth, collected. Confidence was oozing from him.

I should have been reassured, but they were intently gazing in each other's eyes.

I cleared my throat. "I'll have water," I croaked pathetically. Amber nodded, then, I saw her smile slyly at Mike before walking away.

_Now here we go!_

From where I was sitting, I had a nice view of their flirting. I was even munching on bread sticks, which Amber so kindly shoved toward me when she returned with our drinks.

For a while, all I heard was this:

"Sir, what would you like?" Insert seductive smile here.

"What would _you_ like—I mean, what do you suggest?"

Then she suggested some crazy named cuisine that Mike happily ordered.

As if forgetting my presence—never mind Amber, who didn't even look at me—Mike turned and asked, "Do you want the same thing I want?"

I looked at Amber, who'd faced me. "I'm not that hungry," I lied. "Can I just have more water, please?"

"Sure," she said with a large grin. "I'll be right back." With a polite smile, and a subtle wink at Mike, she sauntered to another table.

_ Oh, it would've been, could've been  
Worse than it had even gone  
Well, the car was on blocks  
But I was already where I want  
(It was impossible, we ran it good, we ran it good)_

Silence doomed upon Mike and me, but my mind was screaming. I kept my face down, grabbing a bread stick and biting little by little.

I should have left while they were talking.

"Do you really want your breath to smell like garlic? I might not kiss you," Mike teased. He was perfectly comfortable, his hands playing with the napkin. I grabbed another bread stick. I didn't care if my mouth smelled like garlic. Heck, I'd even drink some nasty smelling beer just so he wouldn't kiss me.

Did he really not know he'd been too friendly with Amber just then?

"Whoa, Jess, what's wrong?"

Or did he think I was stupid?

I was hurting and he didn't even know _why_. That hurt the most.

"Why did I have to fall in love with you?" I could have said it out loud, though I'm not sure. Dropping my half-eaten bread stick, I took my coat and walked out the restaurant. I heard Mike fumble in his seat, and then tell the waiter that he'd be right back.

"Jess! Jess! What's wrong with you?"

_ Why should we ever even  
Ever really even get to know  
(It was impossible, we ran it good, we ran it good)  
Oh if the world don't like us  
It'll shake us just like we were a cold_

We were at the sidewalk, the streetlights making everything shadowy and orange. The night was calm; everything I wasn't.

"Jess! Jess! Please talk to me. Stop running!"

No. I would_ not_ fall for him this time, or ever. I would _not_ look back and see that adorable pout on his face. I would _not _turn around to watch him beg.

But Mike was the better runner.

In another second, my arm was gripped by Mike's strong hand, and I was turned to face him—the pout, the blue worried eyes, and the carefully gelled hair. I had to stay strong.

Stay angry.

_ Now here we go!_

He held my shoulders so I wouldn't get away again, and I frowned, seeing we were only a few yards away from the restaurant.

"Jess, what's going on?" He asked.

I gritted my teeth. Why would I tell him? He'd deny it, blaming my exaggeration and easily jealous nature.

He gently shook my shoulders. "Jess, what did I do?"

"Just let me go." I tried facing away, but he held my chin with one hand. With one shoulder free, I was able to twist my body away from his grasp.

"Jess! Stop this, this is ridiculous! Can you please stop?"

_ Well, we scheme and we scheme but we always blow it  
We've yet to crash, but we still might as well tow it  
Standing at a light switch to each east and west horizon  
Every dawn you're surprising  
And the evening was consoling  
Saying, "See, it wasn't quite as bad as"_

I ran, faster than I ever did before. Though I was short and not athletic, I ordered my legs to endure the painful burn of muscles so I could distance myself away from Mike.

Even when I turned on every corner I heard his panicked voice yelling my name, with uttered curses of frustration in between.

_Just keep running, Jess,_ my mind demanded. The voice was silenced.

_ Well, it would've been, could've been  
Worse than you would ever know_

In another turn, my phone rang. Mike's favorite song, "Float On". I wasn't sure who sang it, but I thought the vocals were pretty weird.

Not wanting anyone, specifically _him_, to hear, I turned my phone off. I didn't care where I was at the moment. I just wanted to get away.

_Good news will work its way to all them plans._ The sentence repeated itself in my head.

Looking behind me, I ran forward again, making a turn at every corner until I was sure he wouldn't find me.

_ I was patiently erasing and recording the wrong episodes  
After you had proved my point wrong  
It wasn't like I'd let it go  
I just wanted to catch the last laugh of this show_

Then I heard footsteps. Where did all the stores go? Why were there less lights? I never remembered Port Angeles having such a deserted street. Barely any car was visible.

The footsteps fast approached, with heavy breaths accompanying them. Mike.

"Just stay away from me, Mike!" I shrieked. It occurred to me then that he would be my ride home.

Should I call Angela? No way was I telling Lauren about tonight.

I decided on asking Angela for a ride home. The footsteps got closer.

I thought of running, but my legs felt like jelly. I leaned on a wall of a closed store, trying not to think of my hunger. I rummaged through my purse, and just when I held my cell phone, I looked forward.

When I saw the figure's shadow, my eyes widened. He was not Mike. This stranger smelled strongly of cigarettes.

_ Yeah, it would've been, could've been  
Worse than you would ever know  
Oh, the dashboard melted, but we still have the radio  
(The dashboard melted, but we ran it good, we ran it good)_

"Don't worry," taunted the stranger, whose voice was raspy and coarse from smoking, "_Mike_ isn't anywhere near, baby. It's just you and me."

The only thing that was on my head was 'you and I'. I wanted to correct his grammar mistake, tell him that 'me' was possessive, and it shouldn't be used with the verb _to be_.

In another second, my arms were above my head, roughly pushed against the wall. The man was clearly strong. If he didn't have the cigarette stench, I would've thought him a football player. I couldn't see his face, but his breath reeked.

"You're a quiet one, aren't you?" His sneer made my chest rise and fall rapidly. "Don't worry. You'll find your voice soon enough. You'll be screaming in a while."

_ Hard-wired to conceive, so much we'd have to stow it  
Even needs have needs, tiny giants made of tinier giants  
Don't wear eyelids so I don't miss the last laugh of this show  
(The dashboard melted but we still have the radio)_

The strong, dirty scent that emanated from his muscular body diverted my registering what he said.

He grunted, and then restrained both my arms easily with one of his. His legs trapped me, and it was then I realized I should scream, instead of trying to fight this guy.

"I remember a while ago," he whispered roughly to my ear, his voice malicious and playful, "I..._met _this girl like you. Brown hair—but it was different—and pale skin, short and skinny. Weak. Just the way I like 'em."

Only scared gasps escaped my lips. Why couldn't I speak?

With horror did I realize my phone was turned off.

Why did I have to be so helpless?

In another disgusting second, I tasted something unpleasant. He forced his tongue in my mouth, and I truly felt I would gag.

My body went into panic mode, uselessly kicking my legs and thrashing my arms. He laughed, and I assumed the taste lingering in my mouth was alcohol.

"Not getting away _this_ time, sugar," he laughed again. His legs tightened around me, I felt crushed. I gave a small cry when he started licking my neck.

_ Oh, we could've been, should've been  
Worse than you would ever know  
(The dashboard melted but we still have the radio)  
Well, you told me about nowhere  
Well, it sounds like someplace I'd like to go_

Suddenly, my jeans were being unbuttoned, and the sound of my zipper told me I had to get away. I _had_ to.

"Stop!" It came out a gasp, but it was better than nothing.

He didn't listen—what did I expect? And with one swift motion I was laying on the ground, truly trapped.

"Ouch!" He covered my mouth with his, and never again did I want to be kissed. At least not wet and smelly like _that_.

My purse, which had hung on my shoulder, fell, and its contents spilled all over the sidewalk—cell phone, compact discs, coins, make-up, all creating a clamor.

But before hope set in, my pants were lowered to my ankles and the pressure on my stomach was squeezing the air out of me. Tears clouded my vision.

"Holy shit!" A voice shrieked from a distance.

I couldn't even tell who it was, because the man—the rapist—kissed me forcefully, preventing my scream. I tasted blood.

Then I heard a loud thud. I even _felt _the loud thud.

That loud thud was Mike. He was the one who shrieked in that unevenly high pitch. Who else would react like he did—jumping on top of the man, only crushing me further with _both _their weight?

Oh, what a sight _we_ must have been.

_Now here we go!_

Mike's strategy actually worked. The rapist was trapped and unable to fight Mike's punches and curses.

I couldn't hear them. My body was shaking, cringing from the scene before—on top of—me.

I gasped when their bodies rolled off me. Everything, especially my legs, felt sore. My arms were scratched from the cement.

From my position, I heard fists repeatedly hit skin, and Mike's furious curses hit my ears like bullets. Only grunts came from the other one.

_ Well, we scheme and we scheme but we always blow it  
We've yet to crash, but we still might as well tow it  
Standing at a light switch to each east and west horizon  
Every dawn you're surprising  
And the evening was consoling  
Saying, "See, it wasn't quite as bad as"_

In another second I was in Mike's arms, hearing nothing but ragged breathing as he ran to his car. I felt moisture on my cheeks, and I wasn't sure if the tears were his or mine. His face glistened with the combination of moonlight, tears, and sweat. Mostly sweat.

My pants were still wrapped around my feet, and I vaguely remembered telling Mike about my forgotten purse, when I fell asleep, uneasy and sore.

_ Oh it would've been, could've been  
Worse than you would ever know_


	7. Always Where I Need to Be

**Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. "Always Where I Need to Be" belongs to The Kooks.**

* * *

**Edward Cullen**

_She doesn't know who she is,  
Oh I can take her anywhere,  
Do whatever comes naturally to you,  
You know she just don't care,  
You know she just don't care ..._

Tonight, she was restless.

And she had good excuse to be. The way Bella saw it, Jacob and I were two separate directions, and she didn't know which way to turn.

In her worried sleep, she whimpered.

How many nightmares had she endured, only to wake up and find reality a much hideous sight? How many countless presentiments to the worsening future, innumerable dread-filled visions did she brave through before confronting to me?

The frown on her lips and lowered eyebrows told me too many.

I wanted to slow down her heartbeat, to drown her worries with kisses, to erase all concern for werewolves with another damned life.

But would she be happy? When—if—Bella was a vampire, would she be free of guilt, blaming me instead of herself because she would be one of us?

I hoped so. I'd much rather she detested the very ground I walked on than have her feel an inch of self-hatred. Nobody had the right to hate her, not even herself.

The movement of Bella's eyelids stirred me from my pondering. I had to stop, I told myself, and think about her more, and not the future.

But another part of me scolded and said that I _always_ thought of her, and that the future was _always_ about her.

"Bella, love," she was waking slowly, and I could tell she was slightly incoherent, so I made sure my whisper was lucidly firm. "You still have time to rest. Go back to sleep."

"Mmm," she rolled to her side, or she would have, if I hadn't been cradling her with my arms. She smiled.

"Good morning," I stated, liking the start of the day already. Two scarlet blushes greeted me, brightening my day more effectively than any sun would.

"Hi." How generous she was with blessings! It wasn't even two minutes since she'd awoken, and she'd already given me her smile, her blush, her voice… And any second now, her eyes would flutter open.

Selfishly, I stared at her beautiful face. I made sure I'd be the first one to see her at day, and the last one to see her before she slept.

"I love you," I told her. Thinking our distance too great for comfort, I kissed her, making sure to be gentle. It was easy enough; I just focused on the part of her I wanted to please, one at a time.

First, I would place one arm carefully around her waist. If I could control myself, I'd even allow knotting my fingers in her heavily scented hair. Good.

Then I would proceed to feel the smooth skin along her hips, burning mine in the process with her inescapable warmth. When all went blissfully well, I would take the dive.

Her mouth, positively oozing with hazardous pleasure and the smell of freesias, was my paramount and most difficult goal. I would always hesitate—though it would be a nanosecond in Bella's eyes—but the want would greedily overtake me.

My vampire instinct would desert my body, and for a moment I would be commanded solely by the human in me. Monstrous as he is, I would always find a way to suppress his urges. There would always be this conflict inside me when my mouth was pressed against Bella's:

You've made it, saved the best for last. She's falling for it, completely giving herself to you. Look—_feel_—how her hands would tangle with your messy hair, pulling you closer it was as if her scent was coming from the _pores_ of her skin, pulling you farther in.

Then the other part of me would argue and tell me I should stop, because I was listening to my nonexistent hormones just a wee bit too much.

But then Bella would agree with the other side of me, giving me more reasons to go further. She'd gasp loudly, and I would feel myself taking in gulps of _her_ air. The skin on my neck would prickle hot, and my eyes would open in shock as her lips, too soft to feel like human, would slide across my jaw, then down my neck.

I physically needed more of her!

Yes you do, Edward. Now, we both know you can easily tilt her head back, so _you'd_ be more in control. You like to have control, don't you?

And I would do just that. I'd even impress myself and hear her uncontrolled breathing. Along with that, I would be rewarded with a deeper shade of red.

But then she would moan. The alluring sound would ring through my ears, filling me with uncontrollable thirst—for her body or her blood, I would not be sure. I would just get the instinct to stop.

And, excruciatingly, I would pry my mouth off whatever part of her skin I had been kissing.

This time, it happened to be at the hollow of her neck. The rapidly beating pulse seemed to create rhythm for my voluntary breathing.

Next, I'd work on my hands. They were always a big problem, because her heat seemed to weld our skin together. But I'd reprimand myself, saying that something bad would happen if I didn't stop caressing her face or feeling her skin. After a diffident few seconds, mission was accomplished.

Then I'd laugh, mentally sighing in relief as I've once again managed to kill my desires for that moment.

And, because I've stopped a near-death experience from coming to her, Bella would frown.

I motioned to the clock, referring to the fact that she still had thirty minutes before she had to get ready.

"No," she took a deep breath, "I'll get ready now. I don't think I'll be able to go back to sleep."

After all my careful planning of making a spectacular kiss, Bella's nightmares would occupy daylight.

"What did you dream about?" I asked. Monotony would fill my voice, for I knew that she wouldn't want to talk about it. She did not want me in her mind.

Bella shook her head. "I really can't remember much."

"Well, tell me if you remember." When you're ready to talk, Bella, I'll listen. I would listen and accept the truth of her choice, and I would not be afraid when the day came.

She nodded and stood up, heading for the bathroom. Her gait was a little staggering, and she held on to the doorway when she almost lost balance.

_Because I'm always where I need to be,  
I always thought I would end up with you eventually,  
Do dodo do do do do..._

At school, I was particularly sour. Eric Yorkie had noticed Bella's gloomy mood—of course, Bella's gloomy mood affected some bitter feelings for me as well.

Eric, with renewed hope, was thinking of the best form of comfort to give her. _Cullen probably rejected her for something. Edward seems like the proper gentleman type and it's no mystery he's better looking than her. Bella probably wanted sex. That's it. Well, _I'm_ not a proper gentleman…_

That put me in an even sour mood. This time, Bella noticed.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," I just led her through the parking lot, making sure to pass the panting adolescent as quickly as humanly possible.

Bella shrugged. "Well, um, Jacob called me last night," she said it like an afterthought, just when we were seated at the back of the classroom. She was trying to sound casual, but her heart was telling me she wanted to know my honest opinion.

"And what did he say?" I didn't need to ask; he invited her to La Push.

She looked down at her notebook, trying uselessly to hide that blush. "He just wants me to come down. I haven't been there in a while."

I eyed her carefully. "I don't know why you feel the need to ask for my permission, when it's strictly your decision," I was trying to sound collected, but my jaw remained clenched. I doubt she missed that detail.

Regardless, her face became surprised. "Oh," her voice too, "I just thought… Well, you said… Um, and I just wanted to tell you…" She drifted off, not knowing what to say.

"Bella," I chuckled. She looked like she was caught stealing a diamond. I just had to concentrate on humor, and then I might be convincingly smooth. "We've already agreed to this. Don't feel worried. I understand. Jacob's your friend." She smiled, but only a little. "Just don't forget your phone this time, okay?"

"It's not my phone, it's _yours_," she grumbled, turning back to her notebook. When will she accept that what was mine, was hers as well?

Throughout class, I could feel Bella's confusion. She wasn't paying attention; she was trying to figure out why I would agree to let her go to La Push.

And I shared her confusion. I didn't know what else I could do. Why would I disallow her seeing Jacob? That would only cause her guilt, and I certainly did not want that. Bella wanted to see Jacob, so she shall have Jacob.

When I'd hear his car's impatient beeps signaling Bella to him, when she'd come back well into the evening, smelling of werewolf, I'd feel a tug at my chest, telling me I was doing something wrong. But it was all right, because Bella came home happier and lighter than before she left.

_Now I see her again  
I ask to be her hummingbird  
whisper words in her ear  
oh now you know I just don't  
you know she just don't care_

"Let's talk about something else," she insisted, while we were at the cafeteria. She took a bite from her apple, eyeing me with apologetic plea. "I don't like all this talk about Jacob and the werewolves and the vampires."

I smiled. "Neither do I," I admitted with a smile. Bella ate, getting lost in her thoughts.

Letting my block down, I decided to see what was happening in the student body. It would be peculiar if Bella had no gossip whatsoever in her life. People might wonder what we were talking about. Or not.

But you can never be too cautious. Or curious.

_What's wrong with Mike?_ Angela Weber was munching on her fries, trying to pay attention to Eric's explanation of his Calculus project. She was looking at Mike Newton, who was sitting at the corner of the table.

I focused on his mind. Jessica Stanley wasn't sitting beside him—actually, Jessica Stanley was absent.

_I hate myself. I hate myself. What the hell is wrong with me? I hate myself…_

For once, Newton's thoughts effected pity from me. I saw the situation in his mind, the guilt he felt. Jessica Stanley had almost been raped while they were on a date in Port Angeles.

Anger consumed me. Jessica's attack reminded me of Bella's encounter with those four monsters who wanted Bella almost a year ago.

"Edward?" Bella asked, confused. She looked to where Mike was sitting. By then, he was staring into empty space, leaving his food untouched.

"What's wrong with him?" She wanted to know. "Did something happen? I've never seen Mike look so sad. Is it Jessica?"

I bit my lip. "I don't know if I should tell you." I was being vague, but I didn't want her to worry about something that didn't affect her.

She blushed. "Oh. I understand. None of my business."

"It's not that, though it certainly isn't any of _our_ businesses," I smiled, liking the sound of anything _ours_. "But I just think it best if they would tell you—_if_ they want to."

Her eyes widened at my response. She was probably thinking the worst, which in a way, it was. I doubted Mike would tell anybody about this experience, though it obviously affected his cool demeanor. Jessica, I was sure wouldn't tell everyone—a few trusted friends at the most. She knew how gossip hurt people, and her story would be fodder for exciting rumor.

The rest of lunch was spent in silence, though I would say it was enjoyable; Bella was looking so adorable, conjecturing what could possibly shake the immovable Mike.

It got to the point where she worried.

"Bella," I took her hand from her mouth. "Stop biting your thumb—actually, stop thinking about the situation. Everything's fine." Well, from Mike's point of view, Jessica was at home, being taken care of by her mother. Mike himself, however, may be far from being safe.

"Alright." She hesitated, but she sighed. Then her smile appeared, a curious thought replacing her previous one. "You know, I'm glad Mike and Jessica are together. They seem to—well, maybe not _complement_, but they work things out together."

I chuckled, finding another reason for her relief. "And you get Mike away from your hair."

"Well," she blushed, agreeing with me, "that, too. But they have similar personalities," at this she cringed, "and when they're not arguing, you could tell they're happy."

I nodded at her observation, though I was fully aware of the real story. How funny it would be if I told Bella that Mike and Jessica's relationship was built because of_ ours_, and not of their personal wants?

Interestingly enough, they would base each other on Bella and me, trying to imitate our level of trust and companionship, though inwardly spiting our success. Sometimes it was amusing, hearing their emulous thoughts pour like an overflowing river to a waterfall.

But lately, Jessica had the ill-luck of genuinely falling in love with Newton, finding chivalry in every one of his childish antics. She would dream about getaways with him, leaving responsibility and Forks behind, only bringing their passion and love—her thoughts, not mine.

Mike, however, was obstinately clinging on to his _love_ for Bella.

His lust-filled thoughts would frustrate me to no end, and they would not _stop_. His fantasies, if it had been any other, would have been considered creative.

But this was Bella he was drooling over. I already had Jacob to worry about. It would take a million years before Newton would be fulfilling his hopes—by then, he'd be dead, and Bella and I may very well be still living.

"What are you smiling about?" Bella's sly smile showed her curiosity.

"You and me," I concluded. "Just you and me." I threw her tray away, and held her waist as we headed for class.

_'Cause I'm always where,  
I need to be,  
And I always thought,  
I would end up with you eventually  
__Do dodo do do do do..._

"Well, Jacob called again," she was reddening by the second, worried what I'd think.

I sighed. "Come on." I kissed along her wrist, a part which always gave me more pleasure that I'd care to admit. Her blood pulsed so loud and distractingly, I would always get the urge to press deeper, but my instincts for her survival would kick in, and I'd just move on to her lips.

And then I'd do it over.

We drove past the houses, and I smiled when I saw the posters plastered to every telephone pole. It was a flyer that had a picture of a black wolf, looking terrifying with jaws clenched, showing its sharp teeth. At the background were paralyzed hikers. At the bottom, it said: HAVE YOU SEEN THIS WOLF? BEWARE: VERY DANGEROUS.

I wanted to laugh. I wanted to see those _dogs_ become a danger to _me_ any day.

Beside me, Bella shuddered. She looked at me. "What?" she asked, having seen my expression.

"Nothing." I then realized that Jacob _was_ a danger to me. Every day.

She looked at me warily, the way she would always do when she knew I was hiding something. Looking out her window, she saw Newton's Outfitters.

"I haven't been to work in a while," she said, rather bitterly. "Mrs. Newton knows I'm quitting, and they've already found a replacement. Her name's Kim, and she's been replacing my shifts since last week. I might as well quit."

I stroked her fingers as a comforting gesture. "Well, maybe you _should_ quit. You don't need the job." You won't _ever_ need to work. Nope, not when you're with me.

"But I need the money," she chimed in. "_If_ I'm going to have one semester of college, I need to pay for the tuition. I _think_ I can pay it off in several years."

This made me angry. She wouldn't accept my monetary offering. It was as if she wouldn't accept life as a Cullen. "Bella," I said. "You're covered. I'd make sure of it."

She sighed, and was about to argue, but we'd reached the border between Forks and La Push.

Fifty yards away, a red car was humming idly. Jacob was inside, absolutely seething with confusion.

_Those damn stories. They're all right! All of them. _As Jacob thought of a particular story about imprinting, horror washed his face. _I wasn't meant for Bella. Bella isn't my imprint._

"Are you listening again?" Bella asked, narrowing her eyes. I tried apologizing, but it never reached my mouth.

She sighed. "I'll see you later."

My brows furrowed. I pulled her wrist back gently, forcing her back to the car. She looked confused, but I kissed her before she could ask.

"Mmm," she said. I laughed.

"See you later," I whispered. When I pulled back, I let my hand linger on her face, feeling the extra warmth from her blush.

_Bloody leech!_ Jacob was fuming, and we heard two honks before Bella ran toward him.

I turned the car around swiftly, wanting to hear as less as possible. But even though I was going 160 miles per hour, I was close enough to hear Jacob's cheery greeting, "Bells, this place isn't home without you."

_I'm a man I'm a man  
I'm a man on this thing  
I'm a man I can be so obscene_

"Alice, I admit: I'm losing her," I confessed to Alice while we were in my room. The others went hunting, so it was just Alice and I. She saw me wallowing in my room while I was away, and immediately came to voice her opinion.

She looked at me, gold eyes smoldered with worry. "Well, I can't really tell you anything." _I can't see anything, _she thought with a grimace. "Even in their human form, I don't see anything happening. Everything's just black."

I sighed. How was I supposed to keep watch over Bella? What if that dog and his pack were overcome by their tempers? The worries kept piling up, and I was the garbageman collecting them all.

"But what if it's right?" I mused. "For Bella, I mean. What if Jacob's better for her?" I knew the answer was yes, but Alice shook her head.

"No. If that was true, they'd be together now. You said so yourself—Jacob didn't imprint on Bella. So he has another soul mate, somewhere ... " She trailed off, thinking it less probable that the young wolf would find his imprint soon.

I lay my head on the armrest of the black leather couch. "I can't help but think: will Bella find another one? In the future, will she find someone else?"

Alice laughed. "Edward, the only one you need to worry about it Jacob Black. But trust me—Bella would never do that to you. She's too much in love with you." _Whether that's a good or a bad thing, I don't want to say. You tend to get angry when I say my opinion on that matter._

I smiled. "I only get mad because you say I'm perfect for her. Clearly, I'm not. A_ human_ is perfect for Bella," and I had to face it: I was not human. "Alice, can you at least see what direction Bella's mind is going?"

Alice knew I wouldn't want the answer to my own question, but that I needed it. She focused hard, closing her eyes and staying as still as possible.

"Nothing," she said after a while. She was clearly distraught, frustrated that she couldn't see an important aspect of our future. "But that doesn't mean anything."

"Just because you see _nothing_, doesn't mean it _means_ nothing," I observed. "Actually, seeing nothing may be the worst—or safest—indicator about Bella's future." I wanted the darkness of Alice's mind to turn into light, seeing Bella and me in our meadow, or watching Forks get gloomier as time passed.

"Edward, no need to worry," she had a sly grin, her golden eyes sparkling with mirth. "I'll tell you this: I _do_ see that little plan in your head being turned into action. And let me tell you, there's never been a better time." With that, she blocked me from her thoughts, concentrating on a ballad she once read about.

"What do you mean?" I asked warily. Maybe Alice had seen too far into the future. What did _I_ have in mind that I would act upon?

Killing Jacob? Begging for Bella to never leave me?

Think.

My eyes opened. I was going to ask Bella to marry me. My thoughts automatically went to my late mother's engagement ring, hidden in the bedside drawer.

I have been thinking on it for months, making Bella my Mrs. Cullen (I thought of Mrs. Masen, but then thought the better of it). My smile widened. We would get married, and I would be hers, she would be mine, and vows would bind us together, in life and death ...

When I was a young boy, I remembered vaguely, my mother wanted me to marry young. She wanted me to find a wife and hide somewhere for a few years, until the Great War would be over. In Chicago at the time, rumors were spreading about a possible draft of American soldiers overseas. None of us was certain, but soon enough, posters of President Wilson glorifying soldiers were seen everywhere. German troops, with its leader, Otto von Bismarck, could be seen brutally killing children in billboards and streets.

There would be the dreaded chemical warfare, never before heard of weapons that caused unimaginable amount of death, the propaganda would say, unless _we_ would enlist.

Elizabeth Masen did not want her son to die. She didn't want her only son to get drafted into the war, where hundreds of her friends would return from with amputations, shell shock, and disease.

Fate had it that disease would be brought upon our town. Pretty soon, we were all lying in hospital beds, with yellow skin and coughing fits.

Much later, I would find out that my mother asked Carlisle to do everything in his power to save me. Me, out of the hundreds in that hospital, our of all the dying, I would be spared.

Elizabeth Masen's wish came true. I got out of that hospital alive.

But her other request, of my marrying young, was still not granted. I laughed, realizing that after all these years, my mother could still get _her_ way.

_'Cause I always think I know how to be  
but I always thought I would end up with you eventually  
I'm a man I'm a man  
on this scene ..._

When the house phone rang, it took me all of my will power to let it ring once before picking up.

"Bella?" I was not surprised to hear how desperate my voice sounded.

"Edward?" She sounded relieved. "Well, I'm ready to leave now. When will you get here?"

I heard a snort in the background, and I could tell Jacob was thinking this situation amusing. Bella _had_ said it seemed like I was dropping her off to soccer.

"I'll be there in five minutes." Or less. "Will you be ready by then?" _Will you marry me? _I couldn't help but think.

"I will," she said blankly. Then I heard a soft murmur, and her soft giggle before she hung up.

_I'm a man I'm a man  
I can be so obscene_


	8. All These Things that I've Done

**Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. "All These Things that I've Done" belongs to The Killers.  
**

Dang it! _This _was supposed be Chapter 7 — Grr! I can't believe I forgot about a whole chapter. Well, then I just added the last parts of it...Sorry for any errors; I just write these in WordPad.

* * *

**Mike Newton**

_When there's nowhere else to run  
Is there room for one more son?  
One more son  
If you can hold on  
If you can hold on, hold on_

"Mom! Answer the goddamn phone!" My voice was high, and the steering wheel was slippery beneath my shaky grip.

Jessica passed out while I had been running from the guy that attacked her, so I hurried off, looking for the nearest hospital. The backs of cars seemed to glare at me, scolding me for what I've done.

Mike! How could you be so stupid? Now her parents are going to kill me! My eyes were wide, and I started hyperventilating.

When I'd reached a stop light, I stepped on the brakes hard. Luckily, I remembered to put Jessica's seatbelt.

"Mom! Mom! Where are you?" It was no use. I threw the phone in the back seat.

I looked at Jessica. She _looked_ like she was sleeping, but I wasn't sure if she was comfortable. There were bruises on her arms, and red spots on her neck. Hickeys.

I was near breaking down, seeing what I've let happen, when I saw a clinic. I hit the pedal and sped to its direction.

"Yes? How may I—oh my! _Nurse!_ We need a stretcher here! Please head over here, sir." The receptionist's panic was a welcome to me. I carried Jessica, my body shaking with fear. The receptionist, Marla Wall, was looking at me worriedly, as if I had done this to Jessica.

"Okay, sir. The doctor will take her in, check her up." Marla Wall recited, holding my arm when Jessica had been wheeled away. "Meantime, we need a few information regarding how exactly she got those...ah, injuries." She was holding a clipboard, and when she clicked her pen, I jumped a little. Nervousness made me speak a little fast.

"We were fighting," I explained. Her mouth formed an 'o', and I realized what she must have thought. "No! No... I didn't hit her—I would never! We were fighting outside, and it was dark, and she ran away. Then I lost her, and I started calling but she wouldn't pick up."

Marla Wall was nodding, but her clipboard remained untouched by her pen.

"It took maybe a few minutes, but then I heard her yell to leave her alone," I confessed. "I didn't think she would be in _that_ kind of danger—oh, _hell! _What have I done? I started walking, giving her some space. I was wondering what it was exactly I did to make her angry...

"But then I heard something drop. Actually, I specifically heard her key chain drop. It always makes that funny sound whenever you drop it. So I ran, guessing where she'd be. It took a while, but I found her. I—"

"Yes?" She inquired.

A sobbed gasp came from my lips. "A man was on top of her! He was going to rape her right there! Oh God!" I couldn't believe it; Jessica had been attacked. These things only happened in movies and books.

I hugged Marla Wall and wept.

_ I wanna stand up, I wanna let go  
You know, you know—no you don't, you don't  
I wanna shine on in the hearts of men  
I want a meaning from the back of my broken hand_

"Mom! Mom! You came! I admit it! I'm scared shitless," I shouted to my mother when she'd come to the clinic. I didn't even notice the disapproving glances Marla was throwing at me, or the wariness of the security guard by the door.

It was about eleven o'clock when I saw her high heels stop in front of my tear-strained face. She looked troubled, and I started shaking, trembling because I didn't know how much she knew.

She didn't say anything. She looked fiercely into my eyes, blue on blue, and hugged me tightly. It didn't matter that I was being squeezed; my breath was being choked out in sobs and wails.

"Mike," she whispered after a while. "Honey, what did you _do_?"

The same question had been plaguing my mind. What did I _do_?

"I don't know," I sniffed. "She just ran, and I saw her, and I-I just don't know! I thought we were doing fine, but she seemed so angry!" From the reflection of the glass panes, my face was shiny and red. My hair was crumpled, if hair could be crumpled, from pulling at it. My mom just held me.

She shushed me with soothing whispers that did not seem reasonable convincing. "Mike," she held my face so I'd see the seriousness in her eyes. "I'm going to call Jessica's parents, alright? Just stay here. We'll work this out."

Clamping my mouth, I nodded. She stepped outside, and I heard the beginning of her hurried conversation: "Kate, this is Karen. It's about Jessica..."

It took about thirty minutes until three adults were hovering around me, with different emotions on their faces. My father was red with anger, while the mothers were trying hard to stop crying. I was in the middle of it all, trapped in between murderous fury and guilty shame.

"My God! Why hasn't anyone reported this yet?" My dad whispered vehemently. Though he was not looking at me, I knew he directed that order to me. "Nurse! We need a phone!"

"Karen, what happened? Is she going to be alright? Is she hurt? Where were the—" Mrs. Stanley was racked with sobs, and those loud intakes of breath would haunt me for eternity. Her hair, which was the same as Jessica's, was wildly fuzzy, and parts of it covered her face.

Finally, a doctor came. He looked tired, his eyes half closed, and his dark hair looked like it'd been untouched for days. I could tell he was trying to look stern, but weariness was overtaking him.

"Are Jessica Stanley's parents here?" Dr. Coyle asked gruffly. His clipboard was against his thigh, held loosely with one hand. All in all, he looked indifferent. Annoyed actually, if one speculated enough.

"I'm her mother," Mrs. Stanley stepped forward immediately. "Where's Jessica?"

Dr. Coyle made an indistinct sound, but Mrs. Stanley followed him to the double doors.

A few minutes later, I was sitting beside my mother, with my head drooping on her shoulder. My dad had gone outside for food.

"Mike?" my mom asked blankly.

"Yeah?" I was sure she was going to ask for the minute details of the event.

"Do you want to go home? I think it's best if we just leave now. You'll see Jessica when she gets out the hospital. Tomorrow, maybe."

My mouth opened, but I snapped it shut. I stood up slowly, realizing my body was tired.

_ Another head aches, another heart breaks  
I am so much older than I can take  
And my affection, well it comes and goes  
I need direction to perfection, no no no no_

I had to go to school.

"You're not sick, honey," Mom assured me. "Thank _God_ you weren't hurt. Mike, listen to me: you did _nothing_ wrong."

As she opened the door for me, she kissed my cheeks lovingly, carefully, as if I'd break into pieces right in front of her.

"Bye, Mom."

"You. Are. My. Hero. Love 'ya." She said in between kisses.

_ Help me out  
Yeah, you know you got to help me out  
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the back burner  
You know you got to help me out_

I drove slowly to school, trying to calm myself. Surely no one would find out. My parents and hers have decided that last night would remain confidential. We were not even to talk about it.

So I decided not to think about it.

In my classes, I was sure everyone noticed my gloomy mood. Lauren was talking behind my back, I could tell. Tyler never even approached me, but gave me sidelong glances.

Only Eric was acting normal, as if I wasn't being unusual today.

"So...did you do the English essay?" His squeaky voice distracted me from my thoughts.

"No, Eric. I did not do my English essay yet. I will do it later, I think."

That was one good thing about him—he always talked about school. Eric Yorkie was all about academics. Occasionally, he'd talk about this website or computer game, but nothing held his interest longer than school. I was beginning to think that _school _was his mistress, just like power is to Napoleon Bonaparte.

"Um, Mike? You know you said that out loud," Eric told me.

I didn't even hide my embarrassment. "Did I? Well, I'm sorry for it I guess." But truly, I was not sorry for telling the truth.

"It's alright," Eric said dismissively. "I'm just glad you're learning your history." He tried to smile, but it fell short. I had hurt him.

But today, I didn't care. Well, I never really cared for Eric Yorkie, but today especially I paid no attention to his feelings.

_And when there's nowhere else to run  
Is there room for one more son?  
These changes ain't changing me  
The cold-hearted boy I used to be_

Lunch was unbearable. If I could, I would apologize ten times more to Jessica for ditching school on Valentine's Day. I talked to no one, though the people from the table seemed to distance away from me.

Great. Now people were bound to talk. Way to act normal, Mike.

The rapist had gotten away. Since I didn't really see a clear vision of his face, the police weren't able to identify him. Pathetic, isn't it?

I didn't eat. I was too confused.

I hated myself. I hated myself so much. What did I do to Jessica?

I told her I loved her. Maybe I still do, but then I'd actually spend time with Jessica...

It was there, at lunch the day after the day after Valentine's—February 16—that I decided Jessica was one infuriating woman.

Not even in a good way. No, she didn't get under my skin the way lovers were able to seep through each other: Jessica was like a rash.

She would always be so controlling, yet find a way to seem all innocent. Jessica was so _deceiving_. So full of double intentions, so full of _herself_.

Why did I have to find these out _after_ I did her wrong?

Now I owed her. I owed Jessica big time.

After Jessica had gotten out of the hospital, she stayed at home to "emotionally recover." Her mom didn't say much on the phone; she was polite.

Why was Jessica not like Bella Swan, the paragon of perfection, the immaculate example of all good and innocent?—though, her being with Cullen was tainting her _just_ a bit, my love for her never stopped.

Bella was just so pretty, so nice in person, it made me angry why I couldn't get her!

What had I done wrong?

I tore apart pieces of my sandwich. Why couldn't I feel love? Jessica was wrong for me, that I knew. But I _tried_—wasn't that enough?

When the bell rang, I looked over at Bella and Edward. Yup, still stuck together.

_ Yeah, you know you got to help me out  
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the back burner  
You know you got to help me out  
You're gonna bring yourself down  
Yeah, you're gonna bring yourself down  
Yeah, you're gonna bring yourself down_

"Mike, are you going over to Jessica's house?" My mom was waiting in the kitchen, making those horrible finger sandwiches.

I froze in the doorway. "Um...do you really think that's a good idea? I mean, she might still be angry..." My face contorted in horror as I thought of an angry Jessica. No, an angry Jessica and _Mrs. Stanley_. Or worse—Mr. Stanley himself!

"I talked to the Stanleys. They're fine with you coming over. Besides, you have to know _her _side of the story." She winked at me. I told my mom last night of all my feelings, and she decided to leave it up to me to make the next move.

"Aren't you supposed to be at the store?" I asked, slumping my backpack on the floor.

"Eh. The store won't need me today. Now, go to Jessica's. Bye, honey!—no, so help me God, if you don't go over there right now, I'll take away that picture of Bella Swan in your room!"

_I__ got soul, but I'm not a soldier  
I got soul, but I'm not a soldier  
I got soul, but I'm not a soldier  
I got soul, but I'm not a soldier_

"Um, Jessica?"

"Come in, Mike."

I gulped. Behind me, Mrs. Stanley nudged me forward. The narrow open of the door widened. I saw Jessica's desk, filled with used tissues. Her bed was no better—Jessica looked like she cried her heart out. I felt bad for her mom.

She was looking out the window and its blinding sunlight, occasionally sniffling and blowing her nose. I sat on the edge of her bed, fingering through the covers nervously.

"Why did you even come here?" she snarled, though her m's sounded like b's.

"My mom told me too." I mentally slapped myself. "I mean, because I needed to apologize."

She laughed bitterly, then looked at me for a moment. Suddenly, "You say the _worst _things ever, I swear to God!" She was wringing her hands, as if choking someone's neck in the air.

I winced. "I'm sorry, okay? But what did I do? Just tell me, Jess." I was pleading softly, not wanting Mrs. Stanley to hear. But her daughter was making it very hard.

"You really want me to tell you? Fine," she huffed, "I will." She crossed her arms and blew a piece of hair from her face.

"Well?"

"You were cheating on me." Her tone of voice was deadly even, and she could've said "Go to hell" and it would've had the same effect.

I was dumbfounded. "What? Jessica, are you freaking kidding me? You _ran_ away because you thought I was cheating on you? _When_ did I cheat on you!" I had stood up in my outrage, flailing my arms in madness.

She stood up too, and I wondered if this would turn in _her _favor or mine.

"_Think_, Mike! In that pathetic brain of yours, don't you even remember when you flirted with _Amber!_" She was yelling so coldly, I thought I was shivering.

I thought back to last night. Amber, the waitress from La Bella Italia? "I was _not _flirting with her! What made you think that? I was just ordering!"

She turned back to her bed. "Yeah right," she muttered. "Ordering for what? Sex?"

"Oh my _God_ Jessica!" I shouted. "You...don't _get _it. Didn't I tell you I _love_ you? And then you think I'd want to jump all the girls that come my way!"

It was...outrageous, her thoughts! What did she think of me, a filthy vile animal?

"No, Mike, you were completely ignoring me while you were talking to Amber. How can you not realize that? She was practically pressing her chest against your face!" Jessica's cheeks were burning red, and she had such an angry look in her eyes.

But I certainly did not remember Amber practically pushing her chest against my face. I honestly didn't.

_ I got soul, but I'm not a soldier  
I got soul, but I'm not a soldier  
I got soul, but I'm not a soldier  
I got soul, but I'm not a soldier_

When Mrs. Stanley stormed in Jessica's room, we knew we were too loud.

"Why won't you kids just forgive each other?" She scolded. "You're teenagers: you make mistakes! It's what you do best! But you learn to accept each other's flaws, not have a shouting battle for twenty minutes! My ears are killing me!"

"But mom, he told me he loved me," Jessica reasoned. "Then the next day—literally—he goes flirting with the next attractive girl!"

Mrs. Stanley looked at me, then at her daughter. "I do not need your sides of the story—I think the whole town heard your complaints. You just need to talk _rationally_ about your feelings, then see if you want to be in a relationship or not!"

She shut the door, taking our angry and foolish shouts with her.

_I got soul, but I'm not a soldier  
I got soul, but I'm not a soldier_

After the parental intervention, Jessica and I were left in silence. I guess we were both thinking of our feelings for each other.

We were both confused. We were both overwhelmed with feeling and attraction.

But there was one thing I was sure of: most of my attraction was not to Jessica.

I loved Bella. At the bottom of my heart and soul, Bella was all I wanted. I don't know what pulled me to her, but something told me that if I were to be with Bella for the rest of my life, I would be happy.

If I dated Jessica for one more date, I'd kill myself. I think.

"I think I see the problem here," Jessica assessed.

"I like Bella; you like Edward," I stated. A look of surprise flashed in her eyes. Was that the wrong answer?

"You still like Bella?" She wasn't expecting that.

I just looked at her as if she was crazy. "I thought we had that established _ages_ ago."

"B-but...you said you loved me. How can you love me when you like someone else?"

I guess I didn't love her? "Jess...I'm not sure of anything anymore. I'm pretty sure that when I lose you again, I'll miss you."

She nodded in understanding. "I guess you'll still keep..._pursuing_ Bella, then?"

"Um, I'm going to keep hoping," I winced at my chances, "but...yeah, basically." I would fight for my Bella. "Wait. What did you think was the problem?"

She glanced at the clock, for some weird reason. "Oh! Uh, we—oh, _hell_! I just thought we weren't doing the best we can...like we weren't dedicated as much to each other. I trust you, Mike, but I guess it's _me_ I have a problem with. I exaggerate a lot, and my insecurity gets the better of me."

I stared at her. "Jess, you're lying." It was clear enough; she was looking anywhere but me.

"Yes, I am." She bent her head down.

"Well, what is it?"

She looked me in the eye, brown scorching blue. It took me a while to register that she was holding my hand in hers. "You don't love me," said she.

Her grasp on my hand tightened. "I don't love you," I repeated, looking at the carpet.

"But I do," she whispered to herself, though she meant for me to hear her soliloquy. "It sucks too, because you're never going to feel the same way. I mean, I chose you over _Edward Cullen_! How preposterous is that?"

I wanted to point out two things: one, she didn't really have a _choice_ over Cullen, and two, it was not so preposterous to choose Mike Newton over Edward Cullen.

But I just listened.

I listened through her tears and anger, through her random bursts of laughter, and the three times she slapped me. To paraphrase it, she hated me, she loved me, she wanted me to leave her, but she wanted me to be with her. She was in love, she said, and she'd never stop. It felt too good to feel this way.

"But Jess, that sounds like torture," I observed.

That was when she gave me the first slap.

_ Yeah, you know you got to help me out  
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the back burner  
You know you got to help me out  
You're gonna bring yourself down  
You're gonna bring yourself down  
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the back burner  
Yeah, you're gonna bring yourself down_

"Jess, why don't you date Eric? I mean, you're both pretty smart—"

"I'm not smart."

I looked at her through the screen dividing us. We were outside—well,_ I_ was out the door; she was inside—and the screen door was closed, and we were going to call it a night.

"Jess. You're smart. You know that." She always got A's. I think she was even smarter than Bella, who liked doing her essays when they were due in two weeks and rechecking homework.

She shrugged. "I just get help from my mom, I guess. She's good at Math. Everything else, you just read through."

I then realized that she had successfully changed the subject from her dating to her grades. Darn.

"Well, I'm going then."

"Bye, Mike."

I placed my hand on the screen, just at her head level. She placed her hand over mine.

"Sorry I didn't fall in love with you," I said awkwardly.

She didn't smile wistfully as I expected her to; she just looked down at her feet. The porch light was on, but the net obscured my vision of her tears.

She sniffled. "That's alright. I'll just pester you with desperate phone calls. It's more fun."

"I won't mind," I joked, but I made a mental note to put my phone on silent.

_ Over and in, last call for sin  
While everyone's lost, the battle is won  
With all these things that I've done  
All these things that I've done  
If you can hold on  
If you can hold on_


	9. Feeling Good

**Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. "Feeling Good" performed by Muse.****  
**

* * *

**Jessica Stanley**

_Birds flying high you know how I feel  
Sun in the sky you know how I feel  
Reeds driftin' on by you know how I feel_

His cell phone would hold no missing calls.

What, did he really think I'd pester him with my _desperate phone calls_?

No. I would not degrade myself to a mere puppy before Mike's eyes. Those icy blues that made my hell freeze. Damn him. I didn't need his pity—or everyone else's—by calling him every night, asking for his love. God, that would be unnecessary humiliating, no matter how tempting the idea sounds.

"Ugh!" I shouted to no one. My room was a mess; tissues, clothes, unfinished homework cluttered the floor.

"I don't love him. I don't love him." But I've heard enough, _done_ enough, to know my mantra would do nothing.

Today was a Saturday, but for once I was energized. I fixed the mess that was my room, and even took a shower. Even though I've cleaned my self a lot in the past few days since _the_ incident, I still felt dirty.

That stranger didn't affect me—I was stronger than that. But somehow, his scent lingered, and the darkness still filled my dreams.

But I could always put it in the back of my mind.

_ It's a new dawn  
It's a new day  
It's a new life  
For me  
And I'm feeling good_

When I went downstairs, I found my mom making breakfast. She'd been taking the couple of days off to make sure I was fine—useless, but she said we_ both_ needed the break. I told her I need not see a therapist, and, seeing it was true, she resorted to staying with me a while.

"Food'll be ready in a few minutes, Jess," she murmured, not looking up from the stove. She was wearing a yellow sun dress, and her hair was done up in a ponytail, making it appear less frizzy.

"Where did you go?" I asked as I sat on the counter.

She frowned when I did so, but my question lighted her up. "_We_ are going shopping. Not Port Angeles, maybe somewhere in Seattle."

I didn't see what was so wrong with going to Port Angeles, for I was sure the same thing wouldn't happen twice, especially when we would be in daylight.

I told her this, but she just shook her head and said "We're going to Seattle."

She ordered me to eat and then go upstairs to get ready.

_ Fish in the sea you know how I feel  
River running free you know how I feel  
Blossom in the tree you know how I feel_

While we were passing by Forks, she suddenly hit the brakes.

"Shoot," she said. "I'm gonna withdraw some cash. We need gas, and it's cheaper when you use cash instead of credit."

I nodded, and she stopped by the bank she worked in. Left inside the car, I turned off the radio. Silence seemed like the best music just then.

Tapping my fingers on the dashboard, I looked around. There were five cars occupying the parking lot, including ours. I was beginning to see Forks for what it really was—depressingly empty. It struck me odd why we never moved out. It wasn't like my parents had important jobs.

My mom exited the bank, closing her purse while approaching the car. She looked like me; I didn't like it.

I didn't want to end up like her, I told myself. Stuck in Forks, where Newton's Outfitters was located conveniently two blocks away. No, I needed to get out.

"Well, that was interesting," she was beaming slyly when she sat down, throwing her purse by my feet. She rearranged the rear view mirror, smoothing out her hair.

I rolled my eyes. Of course Mom would come back with the latest town gossip.

"What is it this time?" I asked, trying to sound interested.

She looked at me happily. "Alice Cullen, from your school," she drove the car forward, "came last night to withdraw some cash. Said she was going to see Jasper—you know, the one who attends Oxford?"

"Whoa." I did not expect a piece of news from the Cullens. They were the most reserved, secretive family I ever knew. Any gossip pertaining them made me interested.

My mom laughed at my response. "There's something else. Charlotte says she saw a wedding band on her finger! Can you believe it? _So_ young!"

We were driving north now, and driving fast, because there was less traffic.

"Mom, but that means..." I trailed off, not knowing what to say.

Mom nodded, satisfied by the fact that she got me talking like my usual self again. "That's right," she sang. "Alice Cullen is married to her _brother_. Well, adopted brother." There was malice in her voice, and for a while, I wanted to reprimand her and tell her it was unfair to hate them. It was unfair to hate people just because they were in love with someone they weren't supposed to fall in love with—and who ever said they weren't supposed to fall in love with each other in the first place?

But we were having a mother and daughter moment, and I didn't want to end it too quickly. Niceties got you nowhere.

"That is downright _wrong_. I mean, now I'm glad I don't have a brother. I can't bear to fall in love with someone I grew up with!" Well, someone I grew up with that had the same mother.

The rest of the day, along with the weekend, was spent in awkward tranquil. There was no talk of trouble, there was no talk of peace. It was like an equilibrium—an uneasy one, but one nonetheless. Mike was a forbidden topic in the house, and I could tell Mom was not too pleased with this fact. The Newtons have been very close friends until now.

"No matter," she consoled. "I can always talk to Karen. _He_, however, is not allowed anymore in here. He's caused too much trouble."

_ It's a new dawn  
It's a new day  
It's a new life  
For me  
And I'm feeling good_

By the time school came, I was rested. Having called Angela, I was able to catch up on missed homework. She said she'd stay by my side, so I wouldn't have such a rough day back. I was thankful for that; Angela always _was_ the Fanny Price in my Mansfield Park, even when I became a complete selfish, boasting, and proud Mary Crawford.

"Hey Jessica," her shy voice greeted me in the parking lot. I made a point to look forward and not gaze at the coming cars. Angela saw this, and walked faster to the building.

"So, what have I missed?" I wanted things to be normal. I didn't know how much everybody knew—probably little, but they were definitely curious.

Angela shrugged. "Not much."

I smiled. "Angela, of course you'd say that. You don't gossip much, do you? Come _on_. Not even a teeny bit of drama? Even my mom told me something yesterday."

She blushed, but cleared her throat. "Well, what did your mom tell you?" She tried to sound as if she wanted to know, but she was trying to make me talk instead of her.

Well, it worked, and I ended up telling her about Alice, which made her eyes go wide. But the bell rang, and, since Angela had Spanish, I headed for Mrs. Lafferty's room. I groaned, missing my tissue and tear-filled bed already.

Surprisingly, nothing happened. I was disappointed. I had hoped I would have a brawl with Mike, who sat next to me rigidly throughout class. We did not speak.

A simple, non-affectionate "Hi, Jess" was all I got.

Grudgingly, I scribbled notes on my notebook. If I could not have Mike, I wouldn't lose my grades over staring at him hopelessly during class.

He never looked at me. He just sat there, whispering to Eric from time to time, as if we were friends. As if our love never existed.

_ Dragonfly out in the sun you know what I mean, don't you know  
Butterflies all havin' fun you know what I mean  
Sleep in peace when the day is done  
And this old world is a new world  
And a bold world_

So it all came down to this, huh?

Staring icily at Edward and Bella, who were walking down the hallway—floating is more like it.

"Hi, Bella," I said from behind, putting on a cheery tone.

Her eyes remained fixed on Edward's. They took a turn outside. I stealthily followed.

They disappeared at a corner of a building, but then I realized they were headed for the parking lot. They were headed for his car. _Great._

I stopped walking. Someone bumped me from behind.

"Hey, watch it," I spun around, trying to see who the devil was behind me. I narrowed my eyes.

"Hey, Jess."

"Mike, what are you doing? You're next class is on the other building," I told him.

He shrugged, looking forward. "I was headed for my car. I forgot something." His eyes weren't looking at my face; he was lying.

I laughed. "You were following them, weren't you?" By this time, we heard the low rumble of the silver Volvo, and saw it zoom quietly outside. Mike grumbled something incoherent.

"What was that?" I snapped, remembering my anger.

He lied to me. He told me he loved me. That bastard thinks he can joke around with me?

Mike rearranged his books, then scratched his neck. "I said _too bad_."

I felt my heart go faster. Mike was really trying to get with Bella.

"You know you're never going to get her from Edward," I said, coldness biting my tone, "I wouldn't be surprised if you get beat up anytime soon. Edward's bound to know what you're planning."

He looked at me, truly angry. "Well, you're never going to get someone close to Edward Cullen. I wouldn't be surprised if you ended up alone your whole life."

Tears clouded my eyes. Mike was pissed at me—and not in the romantic way, where a woman drove a man crazy. No, Mike was pissed at me the way a friend would be pissed at his enemy.

"Fuck you!" I had blurted quite loud. But the second I said it, my anger started getting release. "I hate you, Mike! I fucking hate you! Who the hell do you think you are, saying those kinds of things? You are so _stupid_ to think that someone like her could ever like you!"

Mike looked shocked, and his face was red. I wasn't sure if he was shocked at what I said, or what he said. Regardless, he was fuming.

"And what about you, Jess? If you weren't so arrogant, so controlling, so selfish—"

"You mean if I wasn't so _Bella_," I cut in snidely.

He looked like he wanted to kill me. "Y-you know what? Fine! If you weren't more like Bella, then maybe I'd like you more!"

"Ah!" Before I spewed more curses, I'd dropped my books and slapped him multiple times on his cheeks. Within seconds, he was redder than ever.

"Jess! Get. Your. Hands. Off. Me. Ah!" He couldn't even stop me, for my palms were maneuvering their way through his protesting arms, just to reach my target.

_Slap_, _slap_, _slap_. The most glorious sound.

"Miss Stanley! What is going on?" A womanly voice shrieked from behind. It was Mrs. Lafferty.

Mike was still yelling when I dropped my hands, wide-eyed and frozen.

The teacher glared at me, cutting in between Mike and me.

"What in the devil's name has possessed you, Jessica?" She shouted, catching a stray amount of students' attentions. "The rest of you watching: Get to your class! I will not have this be treated like a public show! Scooch!"

By then Mike was glaring at me, rubbing his cheek. He was muttering some elegant terms about me.

"Stop cursing, Mr. Newton!" Mrs. Lafferty reprimanded, looking at us in alternation.

"I don't even want to hear your explanations," she spoke evenly. "You two will report to the principal's office. _Now_."

_ For me  
Stars when you shine you know how I feel  
Scent of the pine you know how I feel  
Oh freedom is mine  
And I know how I feel_

It was the wrong time, but I laughed anyway. A carefree laugh, one that took away my worries and frustration. No joke was said, no prize given. Mike and the principal looked at me weirdly.

"Miss Stanley, would you please tell us whats so funny?"

I covered my mouth, willing myself to stop. "N-no, Mr. Miller. Sorry." Mike glared.

In the end, I sobered up. I guess the reality of it hit me; Mike was no more. We weren't just playing, and it never occurred to me that Mike takes his feelings seriously. How was I to know? He never took _me_ seriously.

We both got two weeks' detention, though at different times. When we left the office, school was over.

_ It's a new dawn  
It's a new day  
It's a new life _

"Jess? The school called today. What the hell happened?" My mom's face was angry, and I carefully trudged through the living room. "Oh no, young lady: you stay right here! Explain how you ended up getting two weeks' detention!"

I grimaced. Wasn't the principal supposed to say all these things already?

"I just got into a little fight with Mike," I turned to face her. "And we just sorta screamed at each other. Sorta." I didn't want to mention the slaps, though they were something to be proud of.

Mom sighed, putting down the book she was reading. "I know you still love him. It's alright; you've loved him since you were a child. It's going to take a while—"

"I did not love him since I was young!" I interjected. "It was just a crush! Mom, and don't think I still love him, not after today!"

She gave me a look of pity. I didn't like it. I backed away, finding my room upstairs. "I do not love Mike. He can have Bella, and have himself beaten up!" I shouted before slamming the door.

_ For me  
And I'm feeling good_


	10. Uno

**Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. "Uno" by Muse.  
**Sorry if I get the details wrong; this is non-canon, so the order of things are a little off.

* * *

**Mike Newton**

_This means nothing to me  
'Cause you are nothing to me  
And it means nothing to me  
That you blew this away  
_

Today was going to be a good day, I told myself.

As I walked across the parking lot, I became aware of the Volvo passing by. Instantly, my head perked up. Edward wasn't there. Instead, Alice and Bella were talking, though Bella was looking a bit nervous.

I thanked the heavens when Alice started heading for her class, leaving Bella alone.

"Hi, Bella," I said. She waved shyly, though she was clutching her jacket with white knuckles.

I cleared my throat. After all these weeks of being with Cullen, _now_ was my chance to talk to her. And possibly ask her—

My thoughts were interrupted with a loud screeching noise.

"What the..." I mumbled, seeing a motorcycle speeding through the parking lot. Riding the black motorcycle was none other than Jacob Black.

How could I forget Jacob? I've had so many _endearing_ moments with him. The bonfire last year, when he talked to Bella the whole day, and completely ticked me off by bragging about it. Then a few months back, when we went to a movie. I had gotten the stomach flu, and he was so kind as to whisk Bella away from me! I wondered if he too got the stomach flu that night. I hoped he got something worse.

But terror hit me when I saw what he looked like. He was _huge_. If I recall, he is younger than me. Even though he was sitting down, I could tell he was taller than I remembered. The black shirt he was wearing showed his muscular arms. I gulped.

"I got sick and had to go home, okay?" Bella breathlessly told me. I looked at her, then realized that Jacob had stopped right in front of us.

"Okay," I said shakily. Why in the world would I prevent her from going with Jacob Black? I would probably get pummeled if I told on her.

Then, before I could register anything else, she kissed me.

"Thanks, Mike."

A simple peck on the lips, then she was off.

I walked on air that day.

_'Cause you could've been number one  
If you only found the time  
And you could've ruled the whole world  
If you had the chance  
_

Strange, I don't remember time passing this quickly. Where did all my days go?

The month of June had brought no change at all. Sure, I started to have hair that looked like foundations of a mustache, but overall I was pretty much the same. Eric was babbling on about his valedictorian speech, and I was mindlessly chewing on my straw. The empty lemonade bottle laid on the table, along with my trash, and Eric was staring at them as if they were a bother.

"So, like I said, I wanted to say something funny, you know? Something that would catch the crowd's attention. But, I don't suppose you have any ideas do you..." And on and on, his nasally voice droned about the memorable moments Forks High seniors had, and about the numerous accomplishments the class had gained...Blah. Blah. _Bleh_.

"Eric?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you shut up for a second?" I had spotted Bella. She was sitting at a nearby table, the one next to ours, and was talking silently with Angela. Edward and Alice were not there.

Looking back at Eric, he shrugged, and picked up my trash. "I don't know why you just don't throw away your garbage. It's just right _there_..."

I grinned. Today was my lucky day. The sun was shining brightly outside, unmasked by clouds, perfectly agreeing with what I was saying.

As I casually sauntered to their table, I noticed that Bella looked worried. Why was she always so far away? What exactly were her worries? Maybe she was just nervous about graduation. I heard she was planning to go to somewhere in Alaska. A weird choice, especially for someone who doesn't like snow. I remembered in junior year, she cringed when Eric had thrown a snowball my way. Even the Cullens never got around to persuading her of the benefits of the cold.

"Hi Bella," I sat down in front of her. Angela, looking shy as always, turned around to face Ben. I could see Jessica talking to Lauren, pointedly ignoring me.

Bella looked cautiously at me, then cleared her throat. "Hi, Mike. What's up?"

She didn't even make an effort to smile, but she still looked lovely with a frown. _Wow, that doesn't sound freaky._

"Oh, you know, been busy with the store, and my mom's been telling me to get ready for graduation," I said, looking straight into her brown eyes. Sometimes those brown eyes scared me. They looked so..._brown_, so deep, and it was like they were transparent, sort of like an illusion, where it looks deep but really it's just a flat drawing.

Bella nodded her head. She was always so quiet, but her blush would indicate her thinking of something.

"Hey, listen," I said. "Why are you always so quiet? I mean, I could tell you're thinking of something, so why don't you just say it out loud?"

She frowned, and I wondered if I asked the wrong question. "Um, I guess I like to keep to my thoughts," she answered.

"I think you have too many secrets," I said. It was true, and she smiled apologetically.

I have to admit, the silence that followed could only be described as awkward. She was looking at the clock randomly, and I couldn't think of anything else to say.

The bell rang. Lunch was over.

"Bella, can I walk you to your next class?" I suddenly asked.

Her eyes widened at my suggestion, but I knew she wouldn't say no. She was too nice for that.

As we walked, I asked her a few questions I had never asked before, in the time I knew her.

"Where do you usually go?"

"What's your favorite type of flowers?"

"When's your birthday?"

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

The walk wasn't that long, and I only got vague answers, except for the birthday one. September, her birthday was. She was older than me by a few months. We'd reached her classroom, and she politely waved and went inside.

Was I boring her?

_You could've been number one  
And you could've ruled the whole world  
And we could've had so much fun  
But you blew it away  
_

When school was over, I drove dejectedly home. Though it was the afternoon, the sun was still out. Suddenly, it didn't seem to shine so brightly.

My mom was gardening, planting some flowers in the front lawn. "Mike, can you get the mail before you go inside?"

"Sure, mom." I took the key out, and I walked toward the door. Our house was simple, fit for three people and a guest. It had two stories, and had white panels going across. Blue shutters added color to the house, along with the green door.

After getting the mail, I started to look through it. "Alright. Bills, newspaper—"

"Oh! See if there's anything about the Seattle murders!" my mom exclaimed, looking up from her gardening.

"Um, here, why don't you read it for yourself?" I wasn't really that interested about the Seattle murders. Sure, it was pretty cool, but it had nothing to do with Forks. I handed her the newspaper, which she eagerly took with muddied hands and perused.

I looked at the remaining mail. There was a small white envelope, and an unfamiliar return address. "Hey, it's for _me_."

My mom looked at me. "What is it? It better not be a rejection letter from college."

I ignored her, putting the other letters on the ground and opening the letter. "Well, read it aloud," my mom urged.

I went over it, and my eyebrows shot up. "The Cullens are having a graduation party at their house in a few days," I looked over it again. "_I'm_ invited! Sweet!"

"Let me see that," she demanded, snatching the thick invitation from me. "Wow, this is a first. No one's been in the Cullen house before, except for Bella of course. Speaking of Bella, did she tell you when she was quitting? I heard she was planning on going to _Alaska_ of all places." She shook her head, probably thinking about how strange Bella was. It was one of the things I love about her.

_You're still nothing to me  
And this is nothing to me  
And you don't know what you've done  
But I'll give you a clue  
_

The next day was filled with talk of the party. As expected, plenty of girls were spreading details about it. Lunch, as always, was the worst.

But the absolute worst thing was, the Cullens and Bella weren't there. All three were absent. Did they all go camping?

"I think Emmett and Jasper are going to be there," was Jessica's input. She smiled contentedly when everyone around her started giggling mad. She looked at me, glared, then turned away.

Tyler, who was beside me, said, "You're going to the party, right?"

"Yeah," I said. I wouldn't miss it for the world. "I mean, it's the Cullens. They're so weird, but I heard they lived in a really big house. Never seen it though."

"I know what you mean," he nodded. "But I think the party's really for Bella. I mean, last year, when Rosalie and Emmett and Jasper graduated, they didn't throw a party. But now, all of a sudden, they—"

"I get it," I cut him off. The more he explained, the more agitated I became. "Bella's the only one who managed to get cozy with the Cullens, d'you realize?"

Tyler looked as thoughtful as I did. "Yeah. It's like she's part of their family now."

My eyes narrowed. What if...Bella _was_ part of the family? Not by adoption, of course, but by something _else_?

I snorted. Yeah right. No, Bella and I still had a chance. Mike and Bella. Isabella Newton. Co-owner of—

"So, what are you wearing for the party?" Tyler asked.

"Tyler, we're not girls."

He laughed. "But I'm serious. No one's really given a party in this town. Have you ever been to a party before?"

"No," I admitted, "but I've seen movies. I wouldn't worry; it's all casual. The invitation said casual."

"But there's no way I'm wearing regular school clothes for a Cullen party. What's casual for us, probably might not be the same to the Cullens."

He was right. Alice Cullen was a perfect example. Her clothes, so conservative and clean, screamed designer, though subtly it was done. It always struck me strange how they wouldn't flaunt their riches (excluding the Volvo, but Edward was a different matter) when it was obvious they had money. Snobs, they really are.

Then it came to me that I sometimes saw Bella in these kinds of clothes. They looked nice on her, but it gave me sight to my competition.

"Alright, Tyler. Want to go shopping?" I stood up, throwing my garbage out.

Tyler followed. "Sure. Want to go to Seattle? Shops are way better than in Port Angeles."

_You could've been number one  
If you only had the chance  
And you could've ruled the whole world  
If you had the time  
_

"Mom, why can't I go to Seattle?" I stabbed the spaghetti with my fork. Beside me, Dad groaned.

"Mike Newton, I already told you," she paused to munch. "Seattle has a killer. A killer, Mike! Mass murders everywhere! And don't even think about Port Angeles; those gigantic bear things were seen there too."

"No they haven't!" I protested. My mom was one to listen to rumors.

"Yes they have! There's been killings in there too! I swear, the next thing you know, they're going to come here to Forks..." she muttered curses under her breath, though I could clearly hear them.

"Karen!" Dad reprimanded. She looked up, raised an eyebrow, and continued eating.

"You're not going to the mall, Mike. That's final. Do your shopping online."

I grunted. I was going to have to try again tomorrow at work.

After dinner, I called Tyler. The conversation got me frowning.

"Mom, Tyler's allowed to go to Seattle! Why can't I come too?"

She was in her bedroom, but because she was across the hall, she shouted, "The Crowleys are very unreasonable! I don't care what they say; you're not going!"

_You could've been number one  
And you could've ruled the whole world  
And we could've had so much fun  
But you blew it away_

I started thinking of a particular movie. _Can't Hardly Wait_, I think it's called. I've seen it only once, when Jessica had forcefully put it on, and I remember one part. A girl and a boy were stuck in a bathroom. They really didn't get along, but then they ended up making up right there.

Stopping my random thoughts, I fumbled with my blue tie. I was wearing brown pants that once belonged to my dad, and a black button down shirt. My hair was gelled, once I'd realized that styling it like Cullen only made me look like a beggar.

I looked at the clock. I had ten minutes until I had to leave. Taking a last glance, I grabbed my cap and gown and headed downstairs.

A white flash greeted me.

"My boy is graduating!" Mom squealed, clapping her hands excitedly against the camera. Beside her, Dad was looking at the window sternly, his lips a tight line.

I was pulled into a hug, and I frowned because my hair was getting ruined. "Mom, come on. We gotta go."

When we'd all settled in the car, my mom started making fuss with my hair and clothes.

"Mike, your hair really looks ridiculous, no wonder girls don't throw themselves at you! You look like a middle schooler. And fix your tie! I wouldn't have you looking like you don't know how to wear nice clothes. And what did I tell you about your shoes last night?"

"Mom! I know how to dress myself!"

She glared. "Clearly you don't, n—oh, we're at the school. Come on, the ceremony's about to begin." She looked at me, rolled her eyes, then bent to the car seat so she could fix my tie.

"Come on, Karen," my dad called. "Seats are getting taken up."

We got outside the car, and Mom handed me my cap and gown.

Mr. Banner was motioning the parents to get seated at the fields, and I saw the students filing inside the school building, where teachers would remind us of the arrangements.

"Congratulations, son," my dad choked out, but before I could see his face, he'd turned and walked on. Mom gave me a small smile, but before her tears could spill, she ran toward Dad.

"They just can't be emotional in front of us, can they?"

The voice came from behind me, and I turned to see it was Jessica. She was wearing a pretty dress, and her heels sparkled, despite the overcast sky. She was smiling at her observation, that being most of the parents desperately trying to keep from crying.

"I guess they don't want to look weak," I reasoned, matching her cool tone. "I mean, this is _our_ day, and they know how we don't want to have to deal with their tears."

She nodded, and looked at me then. "Mike, I'm sorry."

"It's alright," I said. She didn't specify _what_ she was sorry for, but it didn't matter; I forgive her.

She sniffed, though I was not aware she had been crying. "Well, let's get this over with. I'm getting pretty teary right now, and it hasn't even started yet." She winked at me, then nudged my arm so we'd walk together inside.

"It's just graduation," I muttered. But then it hit me. High school was over.

I swallowed, holding tighter to Jessica's arm. Now was not the time to think about goodbyes.

As the line of students pushed forward and curved, I caught a glimpse of Bella and Jessica. I could see Bella's face. She was calmer than usual, as if in a trance. But then again, most of the time she had always been an anxious person.

Jessica looked like she was about to cry any moment. She was turning her head in every direction, and I knew she was remembering everything that happened in each place. I even did the same. As my eyes swept through the square buildings, along the pathways in between, I smiled. Snowball fights, slaps, awkwardness...

"Dude, are you _crying_?" Will Nolan whispered before laughing silently. Mrs. Lafferty was glaring at us.

"No, I'm not." I kept my face forward. The principal was going through the M's. In a few moments, I would be graduating.

I took a deep breath._ It would be all over_, I told myself. I didn't know if I was happy or sad about it; it was just plain fact.

And then it really was over.

And I ran to the school bathroom. _For the last time_, I added mentally. Goodbye vandalized walls and tiles, so long broken mirrors, it's been nice knowing you all.

After drying the tears, I left the bathroom.

Jessica was waiting outside. She was smiling at me knowingly.

"Come on," she said playfully. "It's not really _goodbye_ goodbye. You heard Eric's speech: 'we're just expanding from our humble town of Forks, making the world our hometown.'"

I smiled shakily. "Yeah."

"Besides," she added confidently, "we still have a party to go to. You're coming, right?"

I nodded. I wasn't really thinking of the party; _that_ seemed a long way off. We walked to our families, and they were surprised to see us together. We just shrugged, for it really was no big deal.

I wondered how long it would take until Jessica and I stopped circling each other, and have finally decided on where we stand.

Probably never.

_You could've been number one  
And you could've ruled the whole world  
And we could've had so much fun  
But you blew it away_


	11. Title and Registration

**Twilight Saga belongs to Stephenie Meyer. "Title and Registration" by Death Cab For Cutie.****  
**

* * *

**Jessica Stanley**

_The glove compartment is inaccurately named  
And everybody knows it  
So I'm proposing a swift orderly change._

_It's going to be fine. Tonight, everything would be over. Tonight, you're going to start anew._

I twisted my hair into a low bun. If I was going to do some dancing, I'd rather it be done without my hair covering my face the entire time. Outside, the moon shone bright, and I got the feeling there was some danger, some unpredictability coming.

What was this giddy feeling in my stomach? How long had I been giggling? Why did I start screaming when Angela's car came to pick me up?

Regardless, everything was going to be fine. Tonight, everything would be over. I was going to start anew.

"So, are you guys going to have a long distance relationship?" I asked Angela, who was driving, and Ben, who was sitting in the passenger seat.

Angela looked at Ben and smiled. "Yes. We think it'll work out. We're really only going to be three hours away." I cringed internally when he held her hand and kissed it lightly. How many times had I seen Edward do that to Bella? Only a few times, comparing to the times they would kiss on the lips.

"Lovely," I muttered. I shook my head, getting rid of all negative energy. "Let's get partying!" Forced enthusiasm. Tight grin. Held back tears. It was going to be a long night.

_'Coz behind its door there's nothing to keep my fingers warm  
And all I find are souvenirs from better times  
Before the gleam of your taillights fading east  
To find yourself a better life._

The house was so intimidating. It was white, and though it was dark out, lights showed the expensive looking building. This house didn't belong anywhere near Forks. But then, the Cullens were like needles in a haystack. They were different, but they managed to be unseen. Of course, that only created more of an allure to find them.

In front, Ben gave a whoosh of appreciation.

"Nice house," Angela stated. We got out of the car and walked slowly up the long winding driveway. Bushes lined the sides, and they were all lighted with those yellow Christmas lights.

The party didn't look like it started yet, and when we rang the doorbell, Alice greeted us. My eyes widened as I took in her outfit: red halter-top, electric blue pants, heels. I glanced at my friends. They looked as nervous as I did, but we were all smiling.

"Come on in," Alice said, opening the door widely. We were the first ones there, but I could see cars coming from behind.

"What the..." I heard Ben mutter.

The lights were hypnotically dark, and the music blared and thumped rhythmically, bringing a party vibe on. It was all too much to take in, and for a moment I thought I was going to jump up and down with excitement. I felt grown up, and the atmosphere gave me a feeling of being in a nightclub. The Cullens' house was spacious, and I wondered if it took a long time to set this all up.

"This is awesome," I whispered to Angela's ear, and she gave a nod of her head. Looking around, I saw more students coming inside, having similar reactions as we did.

Lauren came in, followed by Tyler, looking bitter and jealous. She was eyeing the stereos, staring at the large windows and the impressed expressions of students. Tyler looked excited, as no doubt we all did. He was bobbing his head to the music, while Lauren was casually pulling his arm as she approached me.

"So this is it, huh? Have you seen any of them?" she asked.

"No," I answered. "Alice was here a while ago, though, but Bella and Edward haven't come out yet."

She nodded. Then she sighed, looking over the open door. "Mike's here," she said in a lighter tone. "Eric's with him."

My head snapped to his direction, and I put on my most subtle smile. Mike was wearing new clothes—dark jeans, blue shirt, white sneakers. Eric was still wearing his white button down and brown pants from this morning. Both looked out of place, and in awe at the decorations. I could see Eric whispering to Mike's ear, then Mike moving away from him.

"So what's the deal with you guys?" Lauren was inspecting his nails, trying to look for someone to dance with. Tyler had gone to the snack area, laughing with his friends and stuffing his face with food.

I blinked. "Who?"

She rolled her eyes, then stood up straighter to look at me. "You and Mike. What, are you guys dating again? Or did you go all sentimental and decide to be just friends?" She was pouting, as if she pitied me. I didn't like it.

"I'm not entirely sure," I said, irritated. "I guess we're friends, but we're going to different colleges, so a relationship isn't ideal."

Lauren snorted. She sounded like a hyena. "I can't believe he's still going after Bella." She pointed to Mike, who was currently talking to Bella and Edward. Well, Edward was just standing, an arm wrapped around _her_ waist, and Bella was smiling shyly. Mike was all grins and glee.

"It makes me sick," she said, quite loudly. The song was getting louder, and people started moving toward the center of what I assumed to be a big dining room, and started dancing.

_I was searching for some legal document  
As the rain beat down on the hood  
When I stumbled upon pictures I tried to forget  
And that's how this idea was drilled into my head_

Bella and Edward had passed by us, but not before socializing for a bit. I got the feeling that they really didn't want to be here, despite the normalcy and enthusiasm in their tone. They were convincing actors.

As they left Lauren and me, I wanted to know more about their relationship. How was is they were able to find each other and, through the gossip and the idiocy of this town, managed to become as infatuated as they had been a year ago?

It was a whole new territory, and I felt like I was too young to explore this crazy feeling of true love. Soul mates. Forever and after. Terrifying stuff, and Bella was already sucked into it. Was it really that worth it?

"Hey, Jess. Miss me much?" A cocky voice said from behind. Lauren snorted, but left to see other people.

"Don't be so sure of yourself, Mike," I said coldly, but we were joking. "Are you having fun?"

"Yeah, though I _was_ a bit disappointed there isn't any alcohol," he admitted. "But their house is cool. I wonder if it's always like this. Must be cool, being rich..."

I nodded. We were all a bit jealous, I suppose, because the majority of Forks wasn't on the high end when it concerned money. Even Mike, who's family owned the only sporting goods store in town and its vicinity, had only sufficient and no excess. But then again, no one really had too much money.

"Do you want to dance?" I asked quickly. I looked over Angela and Ben, over Lauren and Tyler, and lonely Eric. They were all dancing, moving with the music for the sake of partying, for letting go of high school. I didn't know how I knew, but I felt as if I wouldn't be seeing them all in a long time after this.

"Let's go." Mike led me toward the center, away from the front door and from Bella and Edward. The song was relatively fast and upbeat, but the deepness of the bass and shrieks of the guitar gave a more intimate sound, sultry and intense. I swayed my hips, closed my eyes, and felt Mike do the same behind me.

For some reason, behind my closed eyelids, I felt tears. Everything had gone so _wrong_. And yet, here I was, leaning against Mike's chest, moving with him, and I never felt so right. This was all real. His hands, my hands, his face against mine, and my frizzy hair slowly escaping from the bun I had placed it into.

"Jess," Mike said. "The song is almost over. I'm going to get a drink."

He didn't even say, "be right back."

_'Coz it's too important  
To stay the way it's been_

It had been an hour since I last spoke to Mike, and it left a bitter feeling in my heart. I walked outside, just trying to avoid everyone; a first, but this was how I was starting anew. My earlier thoughts repulsed me. Who wants to party when it felt like a funeral? Why would anyone want to embrace graduation? For me, finishing high school meant going to a scarier, more consequential institution called college.

I was walking down the driveway when I heard it. A coughing fit, somewhere amidst the lighted bushes. Curious, I checked it out.

"Eric?"

"What?"

"What in the world are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"Where did you get that bottle?"

"Nowhere."

"Bloody hell! It's vodka! Eric, you're the valedictorian! You're not supposed to be breaking any laws!" I snatched the transparent bottle, which was half empty.

Eric was leaning against a bush outside the house, looking weirder than ever. His eyes were droopy, and he was grinning dreamily. But once he heard what I said, he became angry, stumbling toward me to take the vodka back.

"Give me it," he whined, tripping over his shoes. I took two steps back, but he just stayed on the ground, not finding enough energy to move.

"Eric, what the hell? You're drunk? I didn't even know you drink," I was disappointed, but more incredulous than anything. "Come on, before anyone sees you."

I guess it was my way of nursing my anger, but I found myself leading Eric Yorkie to the front lawn, and it unnerved me to see no one else was outside. I guess the music and food contented the students well enough.

"Everyone always expects me to follow everything," Eric muttered. "It's sickening, really. That's what it is. Rules and rules and books and grades." I was dragging his body to the grass, and when I was sure he wouldn't start vomiting, I sat down cross legged beside him. Grass stains seemed a low price for company.

He groaned, stretched his thin arms, and laid down the soft grass. His eyes were closing, and I don't know what it was, but I knew it would be a bad thing if he fell asleep.

"Eric," I nudged his rib. He flinched. "Don't fall asleep. You'll be left alone."

He didn't seem to be listening, but he repeated my last word: "Alone. I'm used to being alone." His nasally voice was detached, unfeeling, but he meant what he said.

"Well, you'll be left out here in the open then," I nudged him again.

"Mike talked to me before, while I was here. Just a couple of minutes ago actually," he suddenly said, as if just remembering. "He talked about you." He opened one of his eyes, and he was smirking.

I rolled my eyes, trying to suppress the fluttering in my stomach. Who cared if Mike was talking about me? I wasn't the least bit curious. He freaking left me on the dance floor. Wasn't that supposed to be the last I heard of him? Wasn't that supposed to be the final goodbye, the ultimate indicator that Mike isn't the one for me?

But I suppose things have a tendency to go where they're _not_ supposed to.

"Why was he here? What did he say?"

Eric sat up, imitating my position. But unlike me, he held his hands behind, to carry his weight.

"Knew you'd be interested," he said. He looked at my murderous expression and gave a shy smile. "He loves you, you know. Maybe not the way a girl would want to be loved by a boy, but he loves you. So you'll be seeing him in the future."

I fidgeted under his amused gaze. He had that expression when he knew an answer nobody else did. Smug. It made him look confident, a feeling he only used during class.

"H-how do you know that?" I couldn't help it; hope was growing, based on false fantasies and exaggerated interpretations. "Did he say it outright? Or is it only an observation?"

"He didn't say 'I love Jessica,' but it was pretty obvious," Eric winced, and I think the vodka was getting to him. "He said that you get under his skin, and you're always on his mind, and even though Bella's right there, somehow _your_ voice ends up stopping him from making a move."

"He doesn't make a move to Bella because of _Edward_, not because of me," I pointed out, suddenly finding Eric's explanation a load of garbage. But I continued listening, because it gave me hope, a deadly weapon I can use to reason for giving Mike and me another go.

"That's not it," Eric shook his head. "He smiles when he mentions your name. As if you were a memory, a summer fling. You know, like in those novels you always read. Guy and girl have a good time, but they move on, and they always have that secret smile when they reminisce about the past. Pretty sappy, but there you go."

"You're annoying when you're drunk."

"You think I'm annoying whenever." He smiled. "But thanks for helping me. Though I don't know how putting me on the grass helped at all. You could have given me water or something."

I rolled my eyes. "You're not valedictorian for nothing," I got up. "You're going to be fine, right?"

"Yes." He laid down on the ground again, a satisfied smile on his lips. "Mike's probably trying to give Bella a last goodbye. He was thinking of giving her a locket, you know, some sort of parting gift. But I doubt he actually has it. He'll know he doesn't love Bella."

I raised my eyebrow. "So, tell me, valedictorian, what should I do with that knowledge?"

He opened his eyes, shocked. The Eric I knew was back. I looked down on him, smiling at the casualness of our talk.

"I think," he paused, and resumed closing his eyes.

A car drove toward the driveway, an unfamiliar red wagon. It stopped at the entrance of the driveway, and a tall figure got out. I recognized him as Jacob Black. I hadn't seen him since he went to school one morning a couple of months ago. Heading determinedly to the house, I got the feeling he wasn't invited. He said something to the two other people in the car, and muttered to himself as he walked on.

He saw me standing by his path, with Eric laying down like he was sleeping. Jacob gave a polite nod, but his whole body was tense as he looked at the house.

I heard him muttering. Something about filthy bloodsuckers and overly sweet scents. He also clenched his fists when he mentioned red heads.

"Eric?" I asked, lightly kicking him with my shoe.

"I'm not asleep," he murmured before covering his yawn.

I rolled my eyes. "Come on," I pulled on his arm, "let's get you inside."

Eric wasn't heavy, but pulling him wasn't easy. I was a few tugs to the front porch when I saw the two others from the red wagon get out of their car.

They were both dark-skinned and tall, with muscular bodies. Why were people in La Push so dangerous looking? Like Jacob, they nodded at me as they passed, and looked anxiously at the house.

"Here, let me help you," one of them walked toward me and carried Eric. "Where do you want me to put him?" It was effortless on his part, I could tell, carrying Eric's limp body. I looked around, and, finding no porch chairs, I motioned for him to go inside. The other one, the bigger of the two, just gave me an apprehensive stare, but he looked like he was concentrating on entering the house.

_There's no blame for how our love did slowly fade  
And now that it's gone it's like it wasn't there at all_

Inside, the party was in full swing. Lauren was giggling loudly with some girls, and I saw Bella talking to Jacob. He looked so much taller compared to her, and I wondered how Bella was able to befriend all these boys. I saw him handing her a small present, then I had to turn away. Eric was lain down a couch at the far corner of the room. The loud music, the changing lights, they gave an eerie feeling.

Part of me knew it was coming, but I still jumped when Mike's hand was on my shoulder and turned me around.

"Sorry," he drew back his hand. His hair was disheveled, and his face was red. "I just wanted to see you again."

A lump formed in my throat. "Why would you want to see me?" Was he going to say goodbye? Was he going to say something I wanted to hear?

Mike shrugged. "Do you want to dance?"

"I'm pretty tired," I said. People were bumping past us, and we'd ended up sitting on the chairs, watching as others danced and laughed.

"I saw Jasper just now," Mike said, filling up the party-filled silence between us. "He looks the same, though he was a bit angry."

"Really? They're here?" I was surprised, and curious, to see where the other Cullens were. But right now, I had Mike to talk to.

He nodded. "But I didn't see Emmett and Rosalie. Where have you been?"

"Outside," I said. "Eric was there, too. But he said you talked to him before."

Mike laughed nervously. "Yeah," he shoved his hand through his hair. "He was pretty drunk, and I didn't know what to do, so I just left him, but I didn't think it was the right thing to do. But you should know, I meant to do something about it, but he said some stuff, so I went inside, and—"

"Mike, you're babbling." We both laughed. "But don't worry about it: I took him inside—well, this other guy carried him, but I made sure of it."

"He likes you," he said seriously, his blue eyes expressionless.

I looked at him. "No he doesn't."

"He does. I can tell."

"Well, I'm beginning to think that boys aren't as perceptive as they think they are."

"Have you seen the way he looks at you? And he told me about that sonnet he gave you on Valentine's Day." He wasn't smiling anymore, not even a slight one. I liked his anger, but I didn't want to be. Wasn't I supposed to be starting anew, leave all of Forks behind?

"Mike, that's just ridiculous. Eric doesn't like me, we barely talk."

"But compared to other girls, you're the one he talks to the most. It's sad, I know, but its true." The thing that irked me the most was that Mike was actually sincere with his pity.

"Well, there's nothing I can do about it. We're all going to college. Where's he going again?"

He shook his head. "Have no idea. But I heard it was somewhere east." Well, what _isn't_ east of Washington?

We sat for a while, and it wasn't long until Mike asked me to go outside with him.

"I'll take you home," he said, taking my hand. "Eric can get a ride with Angela and Ben."

_And here I rest where disappointment and regret collide  
Lying awake at night_

"So, how does it feel, leaving high school?" Mike asked me as we were walking down the driveway. Several cars had departed, but we were one of the early goers.

The wind was cold, and I was glad Mike had draped his arm around me. It wasn't really supposed to be romantic, but it felt like it.

"I guess it's alright," I said truthfully. "It's not a pleasant goodbye, but Forks is getting really tiring, don't you think?"

He grinned. "I _so_ get what you mean. Four years away from this depressing town."

"Yeah," I looked forward, then muttered softly, "four years away from _you_."

His arm tightened around me, and we stopped walking. Mike cleared his throat, then gave a forced laugh.

"Did you know I had to give myself a pep talk before going here?" he asked, resuming our walk.

"Really?" I tried to sound enthusiastic. "What kinds of things did you say?"

"I told myself I'm hot. I'm going to get the girl of my dreams. After tonight, my future will be set." We laughed a little at that, and by the time we reached Mike's car, all our pretending faded away.

_And there's no blame for how our love did slowly fade  
And now that it's gone it's like it wasn't there at all_

Outside the secluded Cullen house, between parked cars and lighted bushes, was a blue sedan.

If anyone had bothered to come out of the raving graduation party and walked to the blue sedan, that person would have seen two teenagers making out in the back seat. The boy, lanky in build, had blond hair, and the girl, thin and pale, had brown curly hair, though it was kept in a bun.

Through the windows, if someone were to sit in the driver's seat, he or she would glance behind and watch as the girl, Jessica Stanley, would be sitting on Mike Newton's lap, a _seemingly_ permanent smile on her face distinct—though the vision would be obscured by the boy's lips on hers.

But it would be obvious to any stranger that these two teenagers held no true love, that they haven't crossed that terrifying world of trust and companionship, hard times and forgiveness. No, they had been too shallow in their intentions, too selfish with the present, to have had a lasting relationship.

As Mike's hand would reach her back, slide up and down, Jessica would shiver with pleasure, despite her reluctance, despite the June heat.

And, while they say their goodbyes and regrets, the tears would fall, and they would keep kissing, and their worries would be postponed. Jessica would return Mike's passion, and both would roll over until they are better positioned to kiss more.

Then, as if by instinct, or the entirely new feeling of responsibility, they would sit up straight. Fixing their hair and clothes, they sit in their respective seats.

After starting the engine, the boy clears his throat. "Let's just go home."

"Yeah," Jessica says, wipes her mouth. "After tonight, everything's fine, alright? I'll see you."

_And here I rest where disappointment and regret collide  
Lying awake at night  
(Up all night)  
When I'm lying awake at night._

- The End -

* * *

**Thanks for reading.**


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